[b] Sandy Shores [/b]

"How the fuck do you not know?" asked Caleb. He was stunned, confused. Everyone knew of the rebels in America, or so he thought. They were on the news almost daily, derailing trains and shooting down planes. They've been a thorn in America's side for years, it's baffling. "What about Sons-"

"Shut up, Caleb" said his Captain. In the forest, dozens of camouflaged figures walked out and into the sunlight. Their torn pants and old weapons resembled the appearance of an insurgency, but something was different about them. They held rocket launchers of all sorts, hi-tech in their own magnitude for the Reds. The captain kept his weapon lowered in an attempt to ease the tenseness of the situation. If anything had happened to Caleb-anything- it really would have hit the fan for both parties. He took off his helmet, well padded and wet from the sweat and rain, and put it to his side.

 "Afternoon, you almost ruined everything for both of us. If you want to know why we are who we are, or why we're here, you can answer that question first. You are the guest, of course. And seeing that you possibly would have attacked the entire town, or have us 'accidentally' blow it up, I don't see any argument here. Seriously, you really could of fucked it all up, especially with that one there" he pointed to the now unconscious boy. "Maybe we could discuss this at a place not so cold, there's an old school not too far away."