Hetalia Zombie Apocalypse

Brother

"Well...here we are." Matthew announced as they drove into Milan. Even derelict and desolate, abandoned and broken, hollow and lost in the shuffle of zombies, the streets and their subsequent buildings were still hauntingly beautiful and serene. There was not a survivor in sight, yet the place still felt alive to them. The gorgeous architecture still stood strong and resilient, and the sun shone down on the angelic, yet empty roads ahead of them. Even in its dismal state of undead, the metropolis still retained its unforsaken beauty. Everybody stared up at the buildings around them, long since left behind by minds turned to gravel and mush, focused only on their next cannibalistic meal.
"I've never been somewhere so beautiful and so sad." Wy muttered eventually, and though nobody said a word after her, there was a mutual and unspoken agreement with what she'd said.
"There's supposed to be heavy rainfall today." Holland said glumly, as if the mood was already set before the rain started. "I can feel it."
"Hey...I don't think that's rain headed our way," Matthew peered up ahead at the approaching storm. It was dark, fast-moving, and headed in a specific direction. "Not another one! Oh, God. They must be getting more common the longer we stay here." He veered off the road and into an underground parking garage. "We'll take shelter in...in...that bank over there!" He instructed, pointing to a large marble building. Its only windows were on a pair of large doors. The group ran over without hesitation or reluctance. Guns drawn, they entered the building. A flash of movement caught Wy's eye, and within a fraction of a second she had her slingshot out and had taken the zombie down.
"Holy crap, child!" Eliza exclaimed, not even able to take her gun off her belt before Wy had gone into action. "Where did you even learn—?"
"I had a lot of practice with Sealand back when...yeah." She said, her voice going quieter as she spoke. "We used to say, 'if the apocalypse ever happens, we'll be better than the adults. We'll have our own world where kids make the rules and any poor adults who wander in have to abide by them'. I'm the only one left," she whispered, wiping her eyes quickly.
Eliza sighed and patted her head gently. "You beat me. You beat all of us. Come here, you're a better shot than I am." She hoisted Wy up onto her shoulders. "I'll be your legs." She smiled a bit.
Wy grinned. "I like this setup. Forward ten feet, noble steed."
Eliza rolled her eyes, but gave a soft chuckle and walked forward, approaching the counter.
"Lizard!" Vlad yelped, jumping in front of her to take a zombie down with his bare hands. Without any warning, he grabbed the undead teller behind the counter by the head, ripped it off in a gruesome decapitation, and beat the head with his bare fists. The group stared at him in shock.
"You...even in a time of complete peril, you still call me a reptile?" Eliza snickered, but embraced him from behind. "Thank you."
"Ew, you guys are about to get mushy. Are you fifty shades of grey?" Wy asked, genuinely curious. Both of their faces went deep red.
"No, no sweetie, that isn't...no, you..." Eliza stammered.
"See, what we are is...not that, but...we...I...she and I, we..." Vlad sputtered.
"Yeah, I'll let you two get your story straight and come back." Wy shot at them, then raised her slingshot and began to explore the area.
Matthew chuckled at them, and mapped out the area in his head. "We need to lay low for a while here. The last wave only lasted for the better part of a day, so—"
"They can last any amount of time." Vietnam cut in. "They can be hours, to days, to weeks. Good on ya to park the truck across the street, oh glorious leader."
"Hey, don't get snippy at me. I'll be the one to run across the street and fetch supplies if I have to."
"No you won't," Kat said firmly. Matthew sighed, not having the energy to fight her on it.
"It's likely that this one will last longer, now that we're further from the border inside the landspace." Ludwig said. "Everything is more intense here." He grunted. "You all know why."
"Well then, I'll run out and grab supplies before it gets bad." Holland pushed through the group.
"I'll go too. These waves are epic," SK grinned, fully aware that his only goal was to grab Vietnam's log and binder from the truck. It was safer for him to go, as he had an immunity advantage. "In fact, I might just grab the supplies myself. You let me go, Neverland."
"Yeah, we aren't doing nicknames." Holland growled lowly at him. "But fine. You want to go, then go."
SK nodded and slipped out, then bolted across the street, dodging stray zombies as he went. Ducking into the parking garage, he began searching it for their humvee. The garage was strewn with abandoned vehicles, and it was only dimly lit. "Ah," he said aloud when he found theirs. He grabbed the key off his belt and opened the back door, then grabbed their binder and tucked it into his pack. Hesitating, he glanced around himself to make sure he was alone. All he heard was groans and moans in the distance. I'm safe. He sighed with relief, feeling a large weight off his shoulders. Slowly, he took his jacket off and pulled his shirt collar down to inspect the bite on his collarbone in the side mirror of the vehicle. The site itself was rotten; the skin was still bloodied and blackish, revealing the rotten muscle tissue beneath the peeling flesh layer. There was still a tiny bandaid over the spot next to the bite where Vietnam had injected him. It had been months, and besides a soreness in the area, he hadn't had any thoughts or actions influenced by the bite. It was grizzly looking, but he was grateful for Vietnam being so quick to help him. He pushed his collar up and over it again, then pulled his jacket on and turned back to the vehicle to gather food and the limited water bottles they had left. Suddenly, he froze.
I'm not alone.
He turned slowly to see a figure dragging itself toward him across the parking lot. It had all its limbs, but was leaving a trail of blood behind it. It army crawled towards him, slowly but surely. He raised his gun. It didn't look like a zombie to him, but he couldn't trust it anyway. He flicked the safety off. He didn't even know why he still kept it on.
"Don't shoot!" A female voice rang out, echoing back and forth around the walls of the garage. Her voice was hoarse, rough and sandy, as if she hadn't had water in ages. "I'm not one of them. Please, don't shoot." She raised her head, and SK gasped.
"Belgium?"
"Just let me see my brother," came her pained voice in response.