Best friends

Drake sunk to the ground. He couldn't do it, even if it was just a drop in the ocean for him.
He was his best friend.
He couldn't kill him.
The tears on his face were unnoticed compared to the rain pouring down, the drops flooding the street, despite how small they were.
He had to.
He was on the straight and narrow, already. His job and possibly life was on the edge. If he didn't do this task, he would lose his place. The only thing which mattered to him.
If he lost that, Craig would surely kill him. Once you were in, you could never go out. Quitting would be like knocking on deaths door.
They'd kill you if you were kicked out or left. If you knew about it, you had to be in it. No betrayals.
That's why he had to do it.
His best friend had left. Now Craig was after him. He chose Drake to do the dirty work for him. Drake to murder to murder Damien Thorn.
Drake heard his voice being called. Glancing round, he saw the figure of his victim. The owner of the voice.
With shaky hands, he held up the gun which he had been desperately clutching onto.
Damien didn't flinch. He knew it was coming. It would cover up his multitude of sins.
Drake stood up, attempting to get a better shot. He tried to close the distance between them, but something was stopping him.
They both stood in silence.
Drake stole a look at his watch. It was the eleventh hour. It was now or never. He had to do it now.
Drake stifled a sob. He lost grip on the gun. It made a loud cracking sound as it hit the ground, the shattered pieces flying everywhere.
Damien glared at the gun, then relaxing slightly when he looked at Drake.
The machine might still work. Would he do it?
Two best friends with a gun between them.
Drake seemed to read his thoughts, and shook his head.
Slowly, he staggered over to Damien, still shaking slightly.
He put a reassuring hand on Damien's shoulder.  "I'm going to quit," he said, still trying to convince himself as well as Damien.
His friend was more important. If Damien went down, Drake would go down with him. Together.
Damien nodded. It was out of the mouths of babes. Drake knew what he was talking about.
They exchanged grins. The siren had called. They were now on the run, hanging on by the skin of their teeth. The most wanted.
Drake smirked. He put his hood over his head, covering his features, waiting as Damien did the same.
"Eat, drink and be merry," Drake said, picking up his gun, shaking off the last pieces before putting it into his pocket. "For tomorrow we die."