America and Cameroon started searching at the northern-most side of the warehouses. There were quite a bit of them, and getting to the north edge of the lot was more troublesome than they would have preferred.
Often times, they'd crouch down behind heavy boxes that were stacked upon each other to hide themselves from the doppelgangers that passed by. What were in the boxes, America had to try to suppress his curiosity.
It didn't work; America took the risk to peer inside.
"That's a lot of ammo." he whistled lowly. "Probably for the corrupted. Hey." America glanced at Cameroon, his blue eyes gleaming. "The Corrupted. Cool name for them, right?"
"There's no time to be thinking about nicknames." Cameroon whispered. He shot a look to the left, one to the right, and one behind them. Then he slipped away to the next warehouse with America trailing after him.
When they made it north, they couldn't help but breathe a small sigh of relief, whether mentally or physically. America patted himself on the back, saying, "We sure showed those doppelgangers, right? I didn't think we'd actually make it here without a fight."
"I wonder how the others are doing." Cameroon muttered. "I don't hear any commotion, so they must be okay."
They stood with their backs pressed against the wall of the first warehouse, thinking, waiting, watching, listening. The air was still, and though normally it would have been a good thing, it only made the two feel suspicious. America murmured how nerve-wrecking it was before Cameroon snuck off to find a side door.
The warehouses were all identical in structure, and so finding the side door was one of the easiest things to do. Before Cameroon opened the door, America radioed in and asked if the power was still off, which it was in some places.
"What do you mean 'some'?" America asked.
"Sir, these doppelgangers you're fighting have fixed some wires. Some of the warehouses have power, some don't. For now." the man's voice said from the walkie-talkie.
For now. That was what he said. America glanced at Cameroon and they shared a telepathic conversation, with America's expression inquiring if they'd risk going in and Cameroon's expression telling him that they had to go in anyway.
So Cameroon slowly turned the door knob and gently swung the door open.
The warehouse was a little humid; it was dim due to the lack of lighting and the sunlight streaming in from the high windows from above only lit up certain places. America felt uneasy whenever he found himself in a darkened part of the warehouse; it was as if anything could tackle him and take him down right there without him having the time to react.
America jumped as something bumped into something, producing a loud metallic crash followed by a low moan. America latched onto Cameroon's arm, shaking. "W-what was that, dude?"
Cameroon stared at the direction of the noise, thinking.
"What if it's a ghost? Holy crap, I'm not ready for this. Let's go back outside, okay? Dude? Dude?" America shook Cameroon's arm urgently, sending wild, bewildered looks around them.
"It's no ghost." Cameroon said as the low moan became a small mumbling of jumbled words. He jerked his arm away from America's iron grip and followed the noise curiously as America hastily followed him, not wanting to be left alone in the haunted warehouse.
Only, it wasn't haunted. Cameroon was right. They weren't hearing ghosts. They were hearing Romano bumping his head on something once he found out that the real America and Cameroon were there.
"Mmmm!" Romano gave them a pleading look as they approached him. He was chained to the wall by the ankles and his hands were tied behind him. He was gagged with a cloth and he seemed desperate to get it off.
"They like to gag people, don't they?" America mused as Cameroon untied the cloth.
"No shit." Romano spat. "Now free me."
It was five when Team Two, including the newest member Romano, met up again. America listened to his team with a grim face when they relayed information back to him. There were several weapons, both heavy and light, in nearly every single warehouse, and according to Mexico, he spotted tanks rolling down the streets in the distance.
"What? Where did they get tanks from?" America exclaimed. He lifted his walkie-talkie to his mouth and asked, "Did you guys even take account for our weapons and supplies?"
"Sir, I'm not in charge of that. I can't give you the answer you want."
America groaned to himself. He had a feeling that he should have told someone to look after the weapons of mass destruction. He hoped that it didn't make a big difference if he did or not, but chances were that it did.
The team watched America for a while before they switched their attention to Sweden. They crouched in the shadows, behind boxes of ammunition. The sun was setting and within a few hours it would be dark enough for them to move freely. They had the time to spare, unlike some of the other teams.
After a silent moment or two, the team realized that it was a good thing that they had time on their hands if they had a captain like America.
"Okay, okay, let me think. I'm still thinking. Hang on everyone..." America contorted his face into a frown, staring at his shoes as he thought. "I got it...I got it...I don't got it...no, wait, I got it-oh wait, that won't work...right?"
"How would we know?" Cuba groaned. "We don't know what you're thinking."
"Since when did we ever?" Mexico muttered.
Sweden's eyes flickered to the side and those who were watching him followed his gaze in alarm. They sighed in relief when there were no signs of a doppelganger's presence. They shot a curious glance his way, wondering what was going on in his head as well as America's.
"We need shelter. It's dangerous staying here." Sweden said monotonously. He stood up and swept the intersection with careful eyes before walking to the side door.
America did a double take as Sweden left the temporary safety of the box fort and watched as Sweden peered inside the warehouse. Sweden immediately closed the door as quietly as possible and quickly made his way to another warehouse.
The moment it looked like he was turning a corner and out of their sight, they sprung up and followed him hastily, not wanting to lose track of their co-captain.
Sweden found them a warehouse free of doppelgangers and led them up a pair of stairs that led them to a walkway that circled the insides of the warehouse twenty feet from the ground. They took shelter at the first corner they approached and moved spare boxes and chairs around to act as a barrier and wall.
"This is kind of flimsy." Canada said quietly as he propped up a chair that refused to stay up.
"Hey, it's not bad for people who have limited resources." America reminded him with a small finger wag. "And besides, it's only for a while. We just need time to think."
"What is there to think about?" Romano scowled. "Can't we just the the hell out of here and forget this shit? Can't we go back to that potato bastard's place and stay there?"
"Can someone please tell him what's going on?" Cameroon sighed wearily, sitting down with his knees pulled up, leaning his head forward. "I don't feel like explaining."
"Explain what?" Romano asked.
"Oh it's no big deal." America said casually, peeling off tape from the boxes to use it for Canada's chair problem. "The doppelgangers have an army of themselves and The Corrupted-they're our people who got infected by the hatred's...well, hate. Anyway, they're planning to destroy the majority of humanity. Why majority and not all? Because they want to take over and they can't if everyone's dead because we all know that a country has to have a government and people to be a country.
Without a country, they can't survive. If we're gone, then our hate is gone too so they won't exist. Kinda complicated but it makes sense if you think about it. So um, yeah. They attack today-well, May 24th. It's still the 23rd here in my house but everyone else should be on the 24th, right?" America glanced at Sweden for confirmation.
As Sweden nodded curtly, Romano stared at America. "So then...what the hell are we supposed to be doing?"
"Oh we're just here to disable the weapons, defeat the doppelgangers, and hope that the others did too." America said, giving Romano a thumbs up. "So far we have...how many warehouses held weapons again?"
"Forty-seven." Sweden said.
"Out of?"
"Forty-nine."
"What he said." America jabbed a thumb towards him.
Romano was silent for a while. Then he crossed his arms and muttered, "No one told me it was going to be this hard being a country...the hell, I want my money back. This wasn't in the job description."
"I'm not even a country, I'm a micronation." Molossia groaned. "What am I doing here?"
Mexico laughed. "You can thank Sealand for that, amigo. But even if Sealand didn't bring you here, I bet Germany would include you at this point. We need all the help we can get, you know? Either way, you'd still be here. You too Romano."
Romano and Molossia groaned.
Team Three shuddered in the blizzard, teeth chattering, limbs stiff and frozen, hair touched by an unhealthy frost. North Korea could barely make out anything in front of him; he could barely even see the rest of the team. Was that Lithuania, or Poland? He couldn't even distinguish the silhouette.
Then there was Russia and Dark Russia. North Korea had kept track of their wounds, and to his surprise, the doppelgangers heal at once. How come no one told him this? Or maybe they did but he was in denial and refused to keep an open ear.
I suddenly regret not listening to half of what Germany said. North Korea thought bitterly. That information would be useful.
From what he knew, Russia suffered from a broken left hand, possibly a concussion on the left side of his head, possible broken ribs, several bruises, and plenty of cuts.
"Not to mention frostbite." North Korea muttered to himself, shuddering. "But we all have it by this point. Damn..."
He couldn't leave the other countries there to freeze, and he couldn't leave himself there to freeze either. If anything happened, he'd blame Germany. No, he'd blame China and his brother. No, he'd blame China, Korea, and Germany. If they left him alone, he'd be in his favorite armchair reading in his marvelous library.
Oh how he longed for the warmth of his home.
He wasn't going to just give up and rely on Russia. North Korea had to take action, and take action he will.
North Korea wiggled his icy fingers from inside his stiff glove. Slowly, he broke away the ice that was wedged into the folds of the glove and flexed his hand, shaking free the ice fragments. He shot a quick look at General Winter but he was gone from where he last floated. Was that the right word? North Korea wasn't quite sure.
If he ever made it out alive and made it out not looking like a human/country popsicle, he'd have to ask Russia.
Nroth Korea squirmed and twisted in the ice cocoon. Keeping that up, he hoped that the little friction he made he could slowly weaken the ice and break out. How long that would take, he had no idea. But it was better to try something than to stand there.
He smiled to himself when he heard the first crack. Loosened snow fell as North Korea broke his left arm free of the ice. He let the slab of ice fall and he balled up his left fist, using it to smash the ice that kept his right arm in place.
"North, what are you doing?" Ukraine asked from behind.
Though North Korea couldn't see Ukraine, he knew that she was close enough to hear over the ferocious wind. "Freeing myself." he answered, though he doubted that his voice would reach her.
To his surprise, Ukraine must have good hearing. That or she was closer than he guessed. "Will you free the rest of us?" she asked timidly.
North Korea wondered if he should be offended by that. Did she take that he was going to leave them there and betray his honor? He decided not to, just for once.
"Of course." he sniffed. "I can't get much done without support."
Ukraine must have been satisfied with his answer because she stayed quiet for the rest of his escape.
The upper half of his body was free and he was rubbing away the ice from his pants. When feeling slightly returned to his legs, he hacked away at his feet.
"Free." he said to himself, stepping out of deep footprints he made. "Everyone, be quiet. I'll get you out."
"Get me out first." Belarus's voice said at once, sharply. "I need to help Russia! Get me out!"
"What did I just tell you?" North Korea asked icily. "No, I will not free you. You disobeyed me. Be quiet from now on and I may consider it. Who else is within my range?"
While Belarus started to curse at him, North Korea started to help Ukraine out. After she was free, they continued to the others, although Ukraine helped Belarus despite North Korea's disapproval.
"Where's Russia?" Estonia asked as North Korea and Poland helped him out. "I can't hear him."
North Korea shook his head. "I don't know, but we can't stay for long. If we stay, we'd get in the way. We'd be vulnerable to being used as hostages or worse."
"Are you saying that we leave him?" Belarus demanded, making her way to him.
North Korea eyed her silver knife pressing against his throat. Then his eyes flickered up to meet Belarus's gaze and said coldly, "Put that away."
"Not if we're leaving Big Brother." she hissed dangerously.
"Put that away."
"No."
They glared at each other for a while, neither one wanting to back down. Lithuania coughed nervously and said, "Why don't we split up? One half can stay with Russia, the other half can continue to the hideout."
"You idiot." North Korea scowled. "Splitting up is the last thing you want to do. We barely have numbers and we have no clue what we're about to encounter."
Belarus scowled. "No. We can split up. I'll stay here with Russia. Everyone else will go with you."
North Korea stared at her for a while. Then he snapped, "Fine. You'd only hinder our progress. Stay here if you wish. Everyone else, follow me." He turned away from Belarus and continued to walk into the storm, everyone else hurriedly following in fear if they lose him.
"Are you sure we should leave her there?" Ukraine asked nervously, looking back over her shoulder as they walked. Her constant 'throw-a-glance-over-her-shoulder-to-make-sure-Belarus-was-okay' made her bump into North Korea, and he'd often find himself bumped several steps forward.
"Stop looking back." he scowled at her. "You can't even see her anymore."
The farther they walked, the calmer the storm became. Before long, North Korea successfully led them out of the blizzard and through the streets.
"I wonder how Russia and Belarus are." Ukraine murmured.
"They'll be fine." Lithuania said, giving her a comforting smile.
Ukraine nodded and returned the smile. "I know." she whispered.