Riverbed remembered the time he ran away from boot-camp, before he’d moved to the States; he was with Pill and Muerto, and they had gone into Ralph’s house, and a second later, Riverbed had run off to cop junk and into el shooting. When Riverbed had just shot up and pulled the needle from his arm, Muerto opened the door of el shooting, and Riverbed didn’t say a word, only looked into Muerto’s suffering eyes and felt like the scummiest motherfucker in the world because Muerto had seen where Riverbed put himself. A shooting gallery full of junkies and crackheads using public works to get high.