"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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MurderWeasel
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Somehow we drifted off too far...
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Well, Steve, as his name turned out to be, thought the boat idea was good. That was a positive thing. They could go looking for a boat, rather than just sitting on their thumbs. Sure, as Bridget pointed out, the odds of there actually being a boat were very poor. That wasn't really important. It was clear that the others did not understand Kimberly's thought process. She didn't give a fuck if there was a boat or not; she was just sick of waiting around. They needed to do something. This sort of nervous energy was probably why those idiotic sudokus and crosswords and shit existed, Kimberly realized. It was to burn off tension.

Bridget wanted to find shelter instead. Well, that was fine with Kimberly too. She probably wouldn't stay in any shelter for too long, unless she was forced to, though. Maybe she could rally some people, and they could throw a party or something. Have the fucking class celebration here. Why not? Stranger things had occurred. Like, well, being kidnapped in the first place. Yeah, that was a thought. Something to do. The shelter could be their base camp for that.

"Sounds like a good idea, Bridget," Kimberly said. "Then, maybe we can check for a boat later. Or maybe the boat can be our shelter."

Then she was distracted by the arrival of a new person on the scene. Kris Hartmann, someone Kimberly knew in passing from class. Seemed a cool enough girl. Though, what the fuck was that in her pocket? A gun? Seriously? What the hell? What was she doing with that? Oh, of course, it had to be her assigned weapon. Just like Bridget got the nunchucks and Kimberly got the grappling hook. She was just holding onto it for comfort or, well, something. She wouldn't actually shoot anyone.

"Oh, hi, Kris!" Kimberly shouted to the girl, waving. Bridget had asked if Kris was okay, but doing so as well never crossed Kimberly's mind. If Kris needed something, she'd say so. Otherwise, she could be assumed to be fine. Heck, she might even be a good addition to their group. She seemed like she'd be helpful enough.

At the back of Kimberly's mind, though, something was building. There was something here that was just not quite right. Just a tiny bit off.
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D-Day · The Beach: East