Page 43 of Rat

“Not to mention, going through rotting food isn’t exactly hygienic.”

“You going to help me, or what?”

Rory stared, hoping Ollie was only joking with him.

“Fine,” Ollie hissed, getting up. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Wait, wait,” Rory said. “Okay, I’ll stand watch.”

The officers had their eyes fixed on the football match. Ollie and Rory trudged across the yard, trying to look casual, but Rory imagined they had failed miserably.

Rory stood in front of the barrels, and Ollie ducked behind him.

“Hurry up,” Rory muttered.

“What do you think I’m going to do? Search at a leisurely pace?”

Rory laughed, then grabbed his side. “Ouch.”

“Laughing hurts?”

“Yeah, it does.”

He heard a rustle and glanced back to see Ollie putting a plastic bag over his hand. “I doubt that’ll help.”

As soon as Ollie opened the first barrel, the smell intensified. Rory pressed his hand to his mouth and mumbled, “Oh my God.”

His eyes burned at the smell, and he blinked back tears.

“I’m going to be sick,” Ollie called out.

“Don’t be, you’ll just have to wade through that as well.”

Ollie groaned and spluttered, then the lid of the bin crashed down.

“I can’t do it, please, Rory—”

“No way in hell!”

He turned around and looked down at Ollie. He was on his knees, head resting against the bin. The sound of his sob hit Rory straight in the chest.

“I don’t want him to hate me,” Ollie spluttered.

“He won’t, I promise you.”

“He will.”

Rory threw his head back and growled at the sky. “Fine, move out of the way.”

Ollie shot him a grateful look, then rushed to stand up. “Thanks, Rory—”

“Don’t, just don’t.”

Rory prepared himself to open the bin but couldn’t do it. He looked down at the ground, then frowned at the grey wire. Not a wire, he realized, but a tail.

“Here,” Ollie said, passing him a bag.

Rory took it, then dropped down.

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