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Ah, the Santa Carla boardwalk.
Home to rides, games, and family fun! And drug addicts. And muggers. And the dreaded Surf Nazi.
Those last three things aside, it was a sanctuary for everybody. Whether you were a runaway or a hippie, or just looking for someplace new, you were bound to find your place there. From the druggies in the comic shop to the kind video storekeeper, everybody fit in somewhere in Santa Carla.
Currently, it was nighttime, almost 9. The boardwalk would be closing soon, but none of the crowds died down. Kids were still running around and eating junk, and the teens were still smoking and drinking whatever they could get their hands on.
Among those teens, a group of 5. Cool kids, based on how the younger ones stared at them in awe and moved out of their way. Their demeanor and distinct manner of dress stood out, though everybody stood out a bit in Santa Carla, what with the wide array of types there.
Despite their rugged looks, they didn’t seem threatening. They were just there for a good time, bobbing and weaving between the horses and animals on the carousel as they chased each other around the ride.
They are David, Dwayne, Marko, Paul, and Rizzo.
David was the obvious leader; he seemed to scope out the place with sharp blue-green eyes. Girls stared at him, much to the chagrin of their boyfriends. He smiled back, chivalrous but not flirting. He just wasn’t interested.
Dwayne was the muscle, taller than the rest and sporting a firm chest and stomach that showed off due to the absence of a shirt under his jacket. He was more reserved than the rest, still mischievous and smug, but cautious.
Marko was the smallest in stature, but his attitude was by far the biggest. His jacket seemed to serve as a warning, the violent, pornographic images and patches giving a glimpse into his character.
Paul seemed to be the wildcard of the group, a mess of blonde hair and a permanent grin on his face to show for it. He was attached to Marko, discreetly looking at him and out for him, though Marko definitely noticed.
Rizzo was the only girl, though she seemed to easily hold her own with them. She was tall for a girl, and her spray-painted jeans and general demeanor just seemed to scream for attention.
Two Surf Nazis, Greg and Shelly, were sitting on one of the carousel benches. Not because they actually wanted to enjoy the ride, but because they thought it was fun to torment the locals and make out in front of everybody.
Greg was the lead Surf Nazi, the kind of guy that thought he was entitled to a lady’s attention. He thought he was the king of the boardwalk. He was wrong.
Shelly was the type of girl that looked and flirted with other guys to make her boyfriend jealous. A fact that was proven when she started to ogle at David.
Greg didn’t like that one bit. He stretched out a leg to trip Dwayne, who responded with a lunge. Insults were exchanged and punches were thrown, culminating in a black eye for Greg and Paul having to hold Marko back. God knows what he would have done.
A security guard finally showed up and actually did his job. A huge fight was about to erupt, but the end of a nightstick was shoved against David’s throat, the guard holding him back from another altercation. The ride operator finally shut the thing off.
“I told you to stay off the boardwalk.” The security guard said. The rest of the gang stared at him, half in annoyance and half in pure disdain. They didn’t like having their good times interrupted. Marko chewed on the finger of his glove patiently.
David chuckled, a scary sound, “Okay boys, let’s go.” His eyes betrayed that they would be doing much more than just leaving.
The guard let him go, the others in the gang didn’t let up their glaring until David started to leave the ride, they followed him without a word.
“You too, off the boardwalk.” The guard turned to Greg and Shelly, who begrudgingly obeyed. This guy was on a powertrip tonight, wasn’t he? They couldn’t have that.
Later that night, when the rides shut down and the food stands closed, all of the employees had either gone home or were headed home.
The security guard from earlier was making the long trek to his car, through the painfully empty parking lot. He was completely in the open. What a shame.
Laughter carried in the wind, something wicked and delinquent was about in the night.
The guard didn’t notice until that something was right on top of him. He went out screaming, like a coward, trying in vain to open his car’s door. The door opened eventually, though that was because he was swept up in the air, the door falling off in the process. Boy, he had a strong grip.
What a first impression of Santa Carla, huh?
Don’t worry, we’re going to see plenty more of it soon.