“Come on out kid, I already saw ya.” The man said, as you sat there ducked down in hopes to avoid him.

You’d stolen from the mans horse. A few bucks from the saddlebag, enough to get you some food and maybe something else too. You didn’t take the time to watch the people and figure out whose horse it was, it was a fast decision in the spur of desperation.

He was an intimidating looking man, one you think you’ve seen before on the posters strung up around the town.

Behind him, stood another man. He had a darker look to him, and you recognized him from the posters too. Dutch Van Der Linde. They were gang members, you’d gathered. You’d heard all kinds of talk about these men, about the gang.