"My friends being convicts actually had a lot to do with it. A lot of them weren't even what I'd consider criminals, definitely not dangerous. Like Pogo would never hurt a fly after the war, but he just couldn't kick and one night he called me from a dealer's trunk. I listened to his murder."

Drake leans back, settling a bit more of his weight against the counter.

"You hear how people got into this shit versus what the guys at the top are like -- the asshole I was going for when I died was practically a cartoon villain and he was untouchable. Half the cops were on his payroll, anybody he even thought might be a problem was never heard from again. And I got so damn close, Jesus. I was right next to him. Every hit he gave me agreed to witness protection, we almost had enough to move... fucking Blaine. Fucking zombies."