[b] On the Coast of Washington, Sandy Shores-Hotel Reserve[/b]

"This is fucking ridiculous" said James "Why the shitheads in Cali' going around shooting down planes for no fucking reason, and we're stuck here doing jack". Sandy Shores was, in fact, remote from the rest of the region. It served the purpose of a retirement community by the shoreline until the socialists came.

"There's more to it then that, James" said Caleb "We're going through the whole thing tonight, we wont be here long". They walked across the gray Washington shorelines, and if one were to be there, it would look as if no civilization was present at all. The beach was isolated from the houses and buildings. What stood between these two fates were a few hundred yards of tall, grassy hills. An underdeveloped community, well off the map for the Americans. 

"I hope we aren't, it's fucking cold, man" 

"Then put on a jacket for God's sake" Caleb replied.

"Shut up" James muttered."Say, when we leave this shit, put it all behind, yeah? You think it'd be better?"

"I don't know, all I know is that if we gotta get our shit in order" Caleb said. He stopped in his place, as the tide came a few inches from his boots. James looked behind him and turned towards Caleb. "It's all we can do sometimes, get our shit in order. It's all we really have done. We've set things up, true, but...they all got botched. Every one of them, fuck ups in their own special nature. And yeah, it isn't easy without the money like the rebels down south get, but can we really complain about that? We have the side of the working class, which makes up a large chunk of the population. We can get the guns, we have the spirit. We are just missing something, which puts everything down the toilet."

"Then let's hope we pick up on this 'something' before we lose another few hundred." James said, putting his hands into his jeans.

"Let's"