Page 16 of The Rat

The door opened and slammed intoRory, but he didn’t feel it. He landed on the brokenglass, but pain onlycame from one place, and that was his side.

“Shit!

The pain escaped his mouth in agroan, an unhuman groan he hadn’t thought himself capable of. His visionspun, his hearing warped, and the smell of blood no longerregistered. All senses were softened, apart from the pain, whichonly got worse, more specific, more agonizing. It wasn’t fair. Ifhe wanted a sense to numb, it was his sense of touch, of feeling,not everything else.

“Rory!”

Captain’s panicked voice foronce was welcomed by Rory. It broke through the rushing sound inhis head. He jolted, and his head flopped unsteadily as Captainpicked himup.

Captainwas calling for help, rushing himdown the corridor towards the wing. Rory heard feet running, lotsof them, and heard muffled shouts from the guards. The inmates werebeing told to get back inside, back on the wing.

“I’ve got you, Rory.”

Hesaw Ollie’s frightened eyes, sawSebastian’s lined with amusement, and Pauly’s that said, ‘I warnedyou’, but the last eyes he saw before all went dark, wereCaptain’s. Tired, strained, and with the shadow of death lurking intheir depths. He’d seen men die, Rory could tell, and his eyes saidhe was desperate not to see another person leave him.

ChapterFour

Rory opened his eyes. Instead ofstaring up at a grey ceiling, a light buzzed above his head. Theoverly bright room made him wince each time hewoke up, itwas too white, too clean. Rory shuffled, then curled forward inpain. No longer sharp and stabbing, a dull ache throbbed in hisside. Sometimes it felt far away and he could ignore it, othertimes it demanded his attention until he called the nurse and shedrowned it with morphine. He’d been in prison six days and in thehospital for seven, not a record he was proud of.

He’d been stabbed.Rory didn’t know bywhom. The doctors were worried about infection, not from the stabwound, but the broken glass in his thigh.

Rory had failed in his mission,andcouldhave lost his life in the process.

He saw the inspector pass by the window andbraced himself. The door opened, Inspector Hamish stepped inside,and fiddled with his moustache. He hummed as he glared at Rory,then clutched his brow. He was in his sixties, but his hair wasbrown, not a single grey. Rory knew he dyed it, some days he couldsmell the peroxide when he spoke, not from the hair on his head,but the furry slug on his top lip.

He pressed his lips together in a grimsmile. “That didn’t go as planned.”

Rory averted his gaze. “I wannasee my sister.”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

Hamish gestured to the window, and theofficer stood outside. “You’re still undercover.”

“It’spointless. Iwasn’t getting anywhere, and now all I want to do is go home, getbetter, and see my sister.”

“What about SebastianClaw?”

“What abouthim!”

Hamish flared his nostrils. “We knowhe’s planning something.”

“Do we?”

“Yeah,” Hamish rushed forward,and collapsedon the bedside chair. “All his old gang members have reappeared.Hovering around the city like a bad smell.”

“Then letthem do something incriminating whenhe gets out, then arrest him.”

“Let him do somethingincriminating? Did you not read the file Igave you about him?”

Rory lowered hisgaze and didn’treply.

“He went down for murder,but he did a whole lot worse. Selling illegal firearms to gangs,complex explosives to terrorists. He’s a danger to society, we needto be one step ahead.”

“Ican’t do it, I’m not your man.”

Hamish pointed at Rory’s side. “That’staken all the fight out of you.”

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