Hey guys! I've decided to start something new: The Nation's Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse!It's basically the place where the nations can take what they've learned so far about surviving and share it with you! See the end of the chapter for your first piece of advice.

Canada picked up his cell phone and tried dialing his brother's number, knitting his eyebrows together in concern. He knew that something was wrong, and after China and Korea tried to rip everyone's throats out, he could tell that things were going to get a whole lot worse. Call it what you will; a sixth sense, or just common sense; but when it came to telling when things were going to take a turn for the worse there were none better than Canada, the timid nation whom no one ever seemed to notice.

He put the tiny piece of plastic up to his ear and held his breath, somehow expecting the recording that played from the other side.

"Hey, this is America! Just kidding, it's just a voice mail! Got ya though, didn't I?"

Canada sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"Anyways, sorry I can't get to the phone right now, I'm ou-"

America's voice was suddenly cut off by a single, beeping tone that played on repeat, causing Canada's concern to deepen. He hung up and tried again, but it appeared that his attempt was futile as he was greeted by the same repeating tone.

Sighing, Canada turned his attention to the window of the room he had locked himself in, something catching his eye. The image he saw was something that both surprised and horrified him. The people who were loitering in the streets all wandered along aimlessly, as if they had no where better to be than in plain sight of the merciless sun that beat down on them with a vengeance. But that didn't disturb Canada as much as the blood that seemed to drench the clothing of some of the people that wandered by the window.

Canada recoiled away from the window, his lunch trying to force it's way back up its stomach. He had never been good with blood, but that wasn't the worst part. It was the look in the eyes of the unfortunate pedestrian that seemed to spot Canada through the glass and then proceeded to press his face against the window as if he was trying to pass through to reach the violet eyed blond that could only stare back in disgust and horror.

Canada shook his head in disbelief. This can't be true… I'm dreaming… This looks like one of America's apocalypse movies he's always watching…

He watched as the pedestrian moved away from the window, wandering back into the street to join his fellow dead eyed friends.

But if this isn't a dream… Those people are hurt! Someone needs to help them!

Canada exited his sanctuary and slinked cautiously to the front door, only hesitating a moment before gently easing it open. He walked into the street and eyed the people around him uneasily. His common sense had never failed him before, and right now it was telling him that he was making a very bad decision. But he didn't turn around; he wasn't going to chicken out of helping someone who needed help just because the voice in his head said that it wasn't a good decision. He almost laughed at himself, and he probably would have if he were in any other situation. Maybe he really wasn't that different from his brother.

"Hey," he said as loudly as he could, which still wasn't very loud, trying to get the attention of the people who walked past him like he didn't even exist. Nothing new there.

Realizing that he would have to try a little harder, Canada grabbed a passing man's arm to catch his attention. "Sir, I'm sorry, but are you okay?"

The man turned to face him and Canada staggered backwards, trying to stifle a scream that threaten to rise up his throat.

The man's face would burn itself into Canada's memory forever. His skin was a sickly pale color and his eyes, that seemed to be trying to recede themselves into his head, were glossed over as if he weren't even really seeing Canada. As if their previous occupant was no longer inside. An unpleasant mixture of blood, foam, and saliva trailed down his face form the corners of his mouth, dribbling down his chin. Even his teeth were stained the crimson color of blood.

Canada turned to run back to the door, but the man lurched forwards and with the powerful snap of his jaws bit down hungrily on Canada's fore arm. Canada screamed in agony, using all of his strength to push the man away and tear his arm free of his teeth. As soon as he forced the man off of him, Canada turned and ran back to the building, trying to slam the door back shut. The man's howl had attracted several other crazies and they all began to push against the glass door, trying desperately to get in and reach their next meal.

"What… what the hell is going on?" Canada breathed, clutching his arm.

Noticing that the door probably wouldn't forever, Canada retreated back to his safe room, locking the door behind him.

The Nation's Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse, entry one:

Even when you think you know better, no one knows better than common sense, eh?

~Canada~