Right. So this is my first attempt at a multi chapter story... It could be interesting. I randomly thought up this plot last night and decided what the heck and started writing. I don't know how often I will update; I only have the plot written up in bullet points. I also don't know how long a chapter will be but I am going to try to write 1000+ words for each chapter. Bear with me, please. America gets it pretty hard in the first few chapters but he will get to be the hero! (eventually...¬¬) OK. So here goes nothing! :)

Forgot to disclaim… -_-' I don't own Hetalia. :'(

Zombie Land was the first ever theme park that required their visitors to have a vaccination before entry. Not that that was a problem; one could easily see the reason why such demands were made. After all, Zombie Land was the first theme park to incorporate real zombies into its attractions. Real zombies carry a highly contagious virus; but that isn't a problem as long as you keep it contained.

Visitors were given a weapon of choice and went in to a selected scenario to see how long they could survive. Of course, they would have a trained guard keeping an eye on them and several others at all times to make sure they had back up if needed and they could form groups once inside. Despite this, it wasn't unheard of for small groups of people to go missing. Their bodies would be found a few days later, as mounds of rotting flesh. Zombie Land was also the only theme park to request that visitors, in the event of death, donate their bodies to the park.

Despite the danger, Zombie land grew in popularity. People grew addicted to the adrenaline rush that came with risking their lives and came from all over just to see if they could survive a 'zombie apocalypse'. The entire world was zombie mad. Zombie Land gave people that rush that was missing from everyday life and more and more people were growing dissatisfied with the world outside.

That's when things got out of control.

Alfred F. Jones, or America, was having a blast. Zombie Land was his greatest creation yet. OK. So it was Japan that worked out the biology behind the zombie virus and it's vaccine but he had totally come up with the idea and had provided the land. He was uniting people from all over the world in their battle against the 'zombie apocalypse' and it felt great. He felt heroic.

Japan and Canada, who had come after Alfred insisted they come see the place once it opened and started running smoothly, sat either side of him, listening as he recounted stories of the most kickass people to have went through Zombie Land yet; "- and then there was this little guy from Swi- Switz- from Europe and he just went running in to the 'world meeting' scenario, guns blazing! Took out nearly every zombie in the area! They had to go in and stop him before he killed them all! Man, was he awesome!"

Alfred continued laughing and telling them of German ninjas and people dressed as pirates, screaming about armadas. He was oblivious as a man in a black suit, wearing sunglasses approached him from behind, "Sir." Alfred looked back, "Sir, we have a situation."

Alfred narrowed his eyes and dragged the man out of the room, after all, he knew that 'we have a situation' is the code for 'WERE ALL GONNA DIE! D:' (D: face included) and didn't want to worry his brother or Japan, "What is it?"

"Sir, a small group of people have smuggled the zombie virus out."

"What do you mean?"

"Sir, as of this moment we can identify 3 cities across the world that have had hospitals that have received patients that are showing early symptoms of zombification. Unfortunately, action was not taken quickly enough to contain these cases and we estimate that, what with the rate the virus spreads at and the mass exodus of people from infected locations, we are expecting it to be of pandemic proportions."

"Which cities were the virus introduced to?"

"Sir, Beijing in China, Berlin, Germany and… " he trailed off.

"Say it."

"Washington D.C., sir"

America's right hand rose up as if to clutch his heart. How could he not have realised what was happening before?

Across the Atlantic Ocean, on an island to the west of mainland Europe a certain man who just happened to be the personification of England and representative of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland was sipping his tea and watching the news. Upon hearing the news about Alfred's latest playground disaster, England sighed and grabbed his phone. He needed to make a few calls.

"Hello Sir, I take it you are watching the news... Yes... Yes... Might I recommend initiating Operation Z (1)?... Of course... Yes, make the announcement that from now on, no one is to enter the UK. All aircraft to enter our airspace will be shot down, all boats are to be turned away; no exceptions... Of course... Yes… Goodnight to you too Sir."

England sighed; he had a few more calls to make- mainly to his brothers. He sincerely hoped that they would bring something stronger than tea with them when they came.

America was now walking to the exit of Zombie Land with Matthew, Kiku and sunglasses on tow. Sunglasses was making an attempt to lead them out of the building but was having difficulty keeping up.

"Sir, the Japanese government and the Canadian government are asking us to try and move Mr Honda and Mr Williams to a safe location until they are able to collect them. We are in the process of deeming the most secure place to send you."

"Don't talk crap!" America said, "I'm heading over to D.C."

They continued their unrelenting pace and made it to the government car sent to collect them. Once they had all gotten in and started to head off towards the airport, Sunglasses, after listening to someone speaking through his ear piece, turned to Alfred.

"Sir, the President is calling."

"Put him on screen."

The small screen affixed to the back of the drivers chair blinked on and suddenly, the three countries were face to face with the President of America. Japan bowed his head slightly in respectful greeting and Canada nodded his head, "Mr Obama."

"Japan, Canada." The President of America said as greeting, "Alfred, how are you?"

"Now that I've found out there's zombies walking the streets of D.C.? Not so good." America muttered darkly.

Obama may have laughed, but the circumstances were too grave to be making light of the issue. "Alfred, after hearing about the situation and the spread of the zombie virus, I've decided that it is not safe for you to stay in America."

"WHAT?"

"Listen to me Alfred, there are few countries that acted fast enough with enough efficiency to prevent the spread of the virus to their people. All of them have closed their borders and have threatened to eliminate any person or persons that attempt to cross their border. Only one of those countries have a policy towards the personifications of foreign countries that you will be able to make advantage of."

"Where?"

"The United Kingdom." Obama continued, "Their policy towards your kind is that permission or denial for a country to enter their lands can only come from England himself. All three of you have good relations with England and so he will grant you refuge. I've organised for a small jet to be waiting for you at the airport. I'm afraid that for this to work there can be no 'humans' on the craft so you will have to fly yourself."

When they arrived at the airport, Sunglasses opened their door. As America was about to step out of the car the President spoke again, "Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck."

America smiled as he stepped out of the car. He covered his eyes as they adjusted to the intense light outside, "You too, Mr President."

America loved flying.

He loved the freedom that came with soaring through the sky; the ability to go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. It was something he never grew tired of.

But this wasn't flying. This was running away from his problems with his tail between his legs. This was admitting he wasn't able to protect his people. This was fleeing.

America hated fleeing.

If Canada or Japan noticed his frustrations, they said nothing, keeping out of the cockpit. They too were silently seething at their predicament. The first noise to occur in the jet for the entirety of their trip so far was as they were entering British airspace. It was a request for communication. America accepted.

"This is Operation Z defence tower 997 calling aircraft #### do you copy? Over."

"This is aircraft #### we copy. Over."

"Aircraft ####, you are on a course that suggests you are planning to enter British airspace. Please be advised that any attempt to do so will result in immediate missile response. Over"

America could feel a headache coming on. "This is aircraft ####, please contact your superior and tell him that this is Alfred Jones, code 54-Delta-279 requesting entry into British airspace. Over."

There was silence on the other side for a few moments. A new, older voice started speaking, "I don't know who you are, Mr Jones, but that code needs pretty high clearance. Please stand by while we find someone with high enough clearance to figure out what to do with you. Do you copy? Over."

Alfred chuckled, "This is aircraft ####, we copy that." (2)

England's phone started ringing shortly after he woke up. He groggily picked up the phone and answered with a sleepy, "Hello? This is Arthur Kirkland speaking."

England became more alert when they told him of America's situation, "So he's came running to me."

He listened to the voice on the other side of the phone ask him what to do. He smirked to himself, "I believe when the order was put out and our new policies were broadcast to the world, we said no exceptions. If we let this jet through, there will be outrage throughout the world and more attempts to migrate here will be made as we are one of the few 'clean' zones left. I'm afraid we will have to deny Mr Jones' request. Tell him this- and if so much as an inch of his jet enters our airspace, you know what to do."

England hung the phone up and went downstairs into his kitchen to fix himself his morning cuppa. His brothers were arriving later and, happy in the knowledge that no American made, brain eating monsters were on his land, he rummaged around in his DVD drawer, while waiting for the kettle to boil, for something to entertain himself and his brothers. He smiled as he lifted out a box set. He could feel a Doctor Who marathon coming on.

His thoughts briefly returned to America's predicament as he returned to the kitchen. He sighed; America would have to learn to fix his own problems this time. He would turn around or get shot out of the sky. It wouldn't kill him. Probably.

"Aircraft ####, this is defence tower 997. Do you copy? Over,"

"Yeah. I copy. Over."

"Aircraft ####, we have now received our orders regarding your situation. You have not been granted permission to land on British soil, nor have you been granted access to our airspace. I repeat; you have not been granted permission to land on British soil, nor have you been granted access to our airspace. Please change your flight plans immediately. Over"

America's jaw set. "And if I don't? Over."

"... Then we will have no choice but to destroy you and your craft. Over"

The only person in the UK with clearance to deal with other countries' personifications was England himself. Arthur had given the order to have him blown out of the sky! Something was wrong; America could feel it in his bones. He needed to get to Arthur and talk him out of this madness! They had to help one another! He had not just flown across the Atlantic only to be turned away by not only his closest ally, but his once father figure. "Guys!" Japan and Canada looked up from what they were doing, "Hold on, It's about to get bumpy!"

A few hours later, Alfred and his companions walked up Arthur's street in their wet, tattered clothes. The plane had ended up crashing into the sea and had the three men on board been normal, they would have surely died.

They trundled, without speaking across England's neat garden without taking time to admire the roses or the other flower beds. Only Japan took note of the fact there was a few cars parked by the side of the house. They reached the front door and stood staring at it. America smiled; he went to open the door.

"Ah. America-san, I think Engrand-san has visitors –"

"I don't care. He tried to kill us and I demand answers. Now."

The two quieter nations didn't reply. To be honest, they were quite angry at England too. America tried the door, intending to barge in. It was locked. Instead of knocking, America took out some of his frustrations on the door and kicked it in, thus granting the trio entry into the house. They made their way over to the living room where they could hear the sound of arguing.

"-I'm telling you, it's your house, you should go check to see what that was!"

"Oh, so suddenly it's just my house when it suits you! Need I remind you that you should all be living here anyway and it's only because I can't stand the lot of you that I let you stay in your old houses! Besides, if I went to see what that was, you would put Doctor Who off!"

"Hey, Sasana! I've been independent of you for years! You want to try saying that again? Also, not that I have Doctor Who, but why are we watching it?"

A groan came from the room, "We're watching it because the bloody telly will be going on about those blasted zombies and you know as well as I do I was talking about those other pillocks; the very thought of even having the option of living with you makes me shudder!"

"Oi!"

"You want tae say that again?"

Alfred, Matthew and Kiku walked in before things got out of hand between Arthur and his 'visitors'. They were speechless at the scene that met their eyes.

Five men were all sat around the TV, they had all apparently been watching Doctor Who but were now more preoccupied with glaring at each other (or more specifically, England). England had brought out his tea set and there was an array of burnt biscuits, cake and tray bakes on the coffee table. America vaguely recognised one of the four men that were not England; he had seen him in the world meetings. The rest of the men, (though they shared some features with England) he was unfamiliar with. (3)

America's jaw hung open as he watched his seemingly carefree father figure sip on some more tea and try to compose himself. One of his guests reached for the remote and paused Doctor Who. The world was falling apart whilst England was having a tea/Doctor Who party with a load of strangers.

For once, America was truly lost for words.

So what did you think? I left it at a bit of a cliff-hanger in a feeble attempt to 'hook' you all… ¬¬ I had originally planned to make this a more serious story but I failed. :') I think I am going to try to update this every Saturday (easier said than done) though there will be a 2-3 week gap in the end of July/beginning of August (I'm going on holiday. :D) Read the stuff below; it basically just explains stuff in a generally humorous manner with various Hetaoni and Doctor Who references.

No zombies in this chapter… :( I promise though, they will appear in the either the next chapter or the one after that. England's plan has a hole in it; a rather large hole indeed!

(1) It would appear that the UK has thought a bit about what to do in the case of a zombie apocalypse. (America has rubbed off on us, just a little bit) All of the people I have talked to seem to know what to do and would expect the UK government to close the borders and shoot anything that gets too close for comfort (Being an island nation rocks; you get cool attack moves in games and can close your borders in the event of pandemic; only the most determined good swimmers will be able to reach you!). I even read a news article about someone that asked the Ministry of Defence if they had a plan. Here is said article; read it and have a laugh. Replace the dots with actual dots and remove the spaces.

www dot telegraph dot co dot uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/9721072/Britain-is -well-prepared-to-fight-apocalyptic-zombie-invasio n dot html

I just happened to call the 'plan' operation z; I know, not very original- but it does the job.

(2) I have no idea what a conversation between a pilot and a defence tower sounds like. I don't know anyone who has a slightly related job either. I have decided that, despite the fact that this part of the story is quite poorly written (as I haven't done any research), what I was trying to convey is fairly clear and so my waffled attempt will do unless anyone knows how the conversations should actually have went and corrects me. :)

(3) I think it is pretty obvious who the other men are. :P I always thought it was a very British thing to do to sit and drink tea as the world is ending. It really is the solution to most problems. Break up with the love of your life? Have a cup of tea. Monday morning? Have a cup of tea. Suffering from the side effects of regeneration? Smell some tea… Zombie apocalypse? Have a cup of tea. It also seems to me that while it would be seem as pretty acceptable in the UK to sit and have some tea as the world is crashing and burning around you (provided you couldn't really do much about it), Alfred, who sees himself as being a hero, would want to strive to save as many people as possible even if the odds seemed impossible.