The pounding of hooves echoed down the streets of Port William. Citizens ran out of the way, onto the sidewalks as the three horses carried their riders down the pathways. Gangers and Mafia ducked into the shadows of alleyways, not wishing to be seen by those three who tore down the street.
The trio spurred their charges on, galloping up the hill toward the mark where Fort Jasper and Port William joined. Mafia gunsels just watched, hoping that none of the riders would look their way, with a sudden desire for extracting justice.
As the sun set on the island, the three riders stopped their mounts at the top of the hill. Each surveyed the village below with a watchful eye. They were in hell, and each knew that was where they were eventually destined for, but at least for now, they could try to make good on their sins from the past.
It may take a while, but they’d make this village their own.
“Well, mates,” Monty said as the grey shifted under his weight. “What now?”
Walker looked toward the villas that dotted the beach front, a small smile cracked on his face. “Mafia’s got an illegal gamblin’ an’ racin’ operation goin’ on,” he said quietly. “Even under the law o’ this here island, it’s still illegal.” He looked to Marianne and Monty for a moment. “Let’s go misbehavin’.”
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