Roberto Gomez needed a fix. He had loaded up a speedball, two parts heroin and one part cocaine, a ritual he repeated religiously three times daily. In this instance, he had cut the timing a little too close. "My hands were shaking so bad I couldn't control the needle at all," Gomez says. He jabbed again and again, but the wizened veins of a junkie aren't easy targets. Desperate, Gomez wrapped a towel around his arm and dashed for the car, keys in one hand and the precious, bloody syringe in the other. His wife always refused to inject him, so he knew that he'd have to go find a fellow addict at the park, preferably one whose nerves were already... More >>>