[ WP ] The Mexican-American War never ended . Mexico has been secretly sneaking soldiers in the US by going through the border and pretending they 're illegal immigrants . Its 2020 , the war began as a shock .

Five hours after incident: An outbreak of monstrous violence shocks the nation, every and all that look and resemble that of a Mexica. Being an Alaskan Native, they have detained me for questioning, and so that they can verify that they can be safe around me. I have no idea how long I'll be in here, so I'll srite about my experience along the way, to keep my hands busy and mind free. 
 
 Five days: I've been locked away for five days, I can tell this team is unwilling to check my background. I feared this would happen, it would mean my only escape within the upcoming weeks will be the opposing army. Hell, who knows what they'll do if they do n't check my background, either. My chances of safely escaping unscathed and unnoticed are slim. 
 
 Day Seven: It's been two weeks since the war broke out on American Soil. It's been a week since I was falsely detained. There's about five men per cell, word about a breakout has been stirring. Maybe this breakout is what I was looking for, not the opposing army. I see my family at the end of this predicament. 
 
 Day nine: I'm a part of a team, a group of men who have similar goals. We all want to get out, but my team wants to go north and west. If and when we get out, we will try to stick together until we reach every last one of our families. If one of us has no home to go to, we would help each other out. Michael, our numbers guy, will hit it off, and signal the prime event tomorrow. 
 
 Day eleven: We succesfully broke out, now we part ways with our cell mates and make way with out teammates. Since I have nothing to write about, really, I'll talk about our little team. Michael, our money bags and business man. He was part of group A, the group that got us out. He lives closest to where we were held, which was definitely not a federal prison. He was less than an hours away, and introduced us to his family. His wife, Jamie, and his two daughters, Lillie and Anna. We did n't part ways just yet, he told us he'd make sure we had a home to go to as well. 
 
 Day twelve: Jason was an oddball, and it really was n't a mystery why he was in prison. Why he was in that prison beats me, he was n't necessarily one of color. His home was farther west, so he was next. When we reached his place, we noticed he was also a man with money. Inheiritance. Jason gave us a night at his place, introduced us to his parents remains. They had lovely jars. He gave us free reign of whatever he had in his house, so we stayed for a few days. Given the chance to relax and escape the day to day escape, we were able to stitch up the truck we were driving, gas it up and modify it with a new interface deck. A radio with bluetooth connectivity was a major improvement. Jason was really crazy, and I mean really crazy, but he was an alright guy. 
 
 Day fifteen: Our mechanic, driver, and trip planner, `` Coco.'' He did n't give us a name other than Coco, so we went with it. We arrived at his place, and he explained to us his situation at his home. His mother was terminally ill, but his sister was still there and able to take care of her. He had to stay behind. This town was now emptier than before, a lot of the residents were scared away or fought back, but there were still some neighbors. 
 
 Day sixteen: We're now in Washington state, we're about to meet Mr. Stephens place. It took hours for us to find while he slept in the back seat, but we managed. it was a dump. A colossal shit pile of human feces and negligence. Now, we were still lost, and were technically not there yet, but it still stank like a skank on sunday night. After waking him up, he lead us to his little hideout, a well hidden bunker filled with some servers and monitors. It looked like a scene straight out of Watch dogs or something, it was amazing. It looks like he was holed up here for quite some time, the silo walls were covered in pictures of family and friends. Stephens decided to stay, he had a lot of catch up work to do. 
 
 Day eighteen: We're running into trouble, there's a Mexican border installment just a few miles ahead. They have it locked up tight with a makeshift blockade made of vehicles of all types. All types. Bikes, trikes, cars, trucks, tanks near the gate. Hell, they even have some boats installed within the wall. Michael figured it an easy obstacle, as we would detour as long as we needed to. 
 
 Day twenty: It's just me and Michael, it has been since Stephens showed us his high tech shitmound of a hideout. We're finally in Alaska territory, after a couple of days worth of evasion. I ca n't even begin to express how much I'm happy to be so close to home. I ca n't forget that we're still running from such an aggressive opponent. 
 
 Day twenty one: Home. It's getting late this night and I'm incredibly tired. I'm just going to half ass these last few parts and go to sleep.
