You see Sam, this is why people need me.
Just because there's a faceless deity stalking you, doesn't mean other things aren't trying to kill you. Sure, I can carry a package like hell, but the thing is, if Mr. Tall feelsthe need to throw some guy in a hoodie at you,that's where I come in. I'm the escort man. I can guarantee that no one else other than Mr. Tall and his many-a-tentacles will be bringing you down. When trouble rears it's ugly head, I will be there. To stab the fuck out of it.
But why would I be joining a group like this one now? It's true, I would never lower myself to the position of delivery boy under any normal circumstances, but lately, I've come to the realization that the others have known for quite some time. I don't have much longer. I've been running for years, and I thought I could run for a lot longer, but I found out the Man wears on other things than your mind. It turns out he can take a toll on your body as well. Picture this: A 6'5" bald, black man, walking into a pharmacy to steal over-the-counter arthritis medication. Pretty pathetic, huh?
Spence found me in the middle of one of my relapses. I was somewhere spraypainting a circle with an 'X' through it somewhere, with a batshit-crazy look in my eye. He never told me the full story, but he must have been pretty damn convincing in getting me to calm down, cause I haven't gone mad since. Now, it's just a matter of waiting until the lights turn off, and I wake up covered in their blood.
So, if ushering people helps take my mind off the pain, so be it.