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“I can’t believe it’s gone…” The Boss uttered, clearly devastated.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Her second in command asked dryly.
The redhead stared out over the open water where the elevated highway’s support pillars rose from the sea.
“Out of all the things that changed while I was out, I think this I’ll miss the most,” she held back a tear.
“More than the Row?” The man next to her raised an eyebrow at her statement.
“Well, second to that, of course,” she corrected herself, “still, it’s tragic.”
“Yeah, figured you should see it with your own eyes,” Johnny let out a deep breath.
The two of them stood in an empty lot behind the Friendly Fire in Brighton, Stilwater’s downtown on the northern island.
These days, looking over the concrete barrier only presented you with a view of the sea and the highway above it.
Years ago, back when they were still operating out of Saint’s Row, a somewhat sizable island used to protrude out of the water here.
The small, flat piece of land was mostly empty, safe for the highway pillars and some elevated billboards. But beyond that,
the island was a beautiful, untouched meadow.
“I think a homeless camp started developing there, so instead of doing something that would prevent homelessness and help those already without a home, the city’s solution was to remove the island,” Gat shrugged.
“Makes sense,” she joked at the exaggerated solution.
The reason the two Saints mourned the loss of the island was not because of how pretty its flowers used to be, but that they could no longer dump contraband there. Back then, Johnny and the Boss had come up with a strategy involving that island.
Whenever they were being pursued by the cops, they would take the on-ramp in Saint’s Row to get on the highway, head north, and then throw any illegal or dooming items out of the car window while driving. Hot guns, stolen goods, evidence, even unwashed cash.
Perhaps the latter was what attracted the homeless to settle there in the first place.
Either way, the cops’ priority was getting the perpetrators first, and collecting evidence later. So all the two of them had to do was ditch whatever they needed to get rid of in case they got caught or they had to abandon the car, and then come back for it later when the heat was off them. Anything thrown out the window there would land on the island below, all they needed was a boat to get there.
Now, however, it would just land in the ocean. Good for things you wanted to permanently get rid of, but not suitable for later retrieval.
“Damn shame…” the horned woman shook her head.
“Yup,” Johnny agreed, “anyway, figured I should show you before you throw anything out the car by habit.”
“Thanks,” she uttered, still heartbroken by the loss of her flower and drug meadow.
“Cheer up, we’ll find a new spot,” he assured her.
“I hope so,” she turned around and put a hand on her chin, ”what about the little island underneath the westernmost bridge?”
Johnny only winced in response, sucking in air through his clenched teeth.
"It's gone too, isn't it..." his friend deduced from his reaction.
"Yeah..."
"Homeless camp?" She guessed.
"Homeless camp." He confirmed her suspicions with a slight nod.
"For fuck's sake!" His leader kicked an empty tin can, sending it flying over the concrete barrier and into the ocean.
"Yo, careful! The island's gone, that shit landed in the water," Gat jokingly warned her.
Her frown disappeared due to his quip, "Alright, how about the bum hills in Southern Cross?”
Johnny knew what place she meant and thought about it briefly, “Could work, not the worst choice.”
“We might have to clear the hills of their namesake inhabitants first,” Velvet suggested, a smirk forming on her face, one which he mirrored at the prospect of violence.
“Sounds fun,” he nodded in agreement, “aight, let’s roll.”
The pair walked back to their car which had been parked behind the gun store. They would need to scout out the area first. From what she’d heard, Southern Cross had fallen under the control of the Sons of Samedi, with the Brotherhood’s turf surrounding it. Their old island was off shore and the Vice Kings, who used to control the neighbouring downtown back then, didn’t bother doing anything with it, so getting there was had been simple. Only time would tell if the hills below the highway south of the factory would turn out to be more tricky. No doubt these new gangs wouldn’t make things easy for them.