Free (2005) Rat Run by Gerald Seymour Page A

You don't want me to say what they called you, all right, how they described you, all right, you haven't forgotten. It's hung round your neck. I said you were a failure - a man can live with that. But a man can't live with what they called you. Am I right, Malachy?'
    'Cannot.'
    'Anyone stand your corner, speak for you? I don't think so. Think of topping yourself, Malachy, ending it?' 'Thought of it.'
    'And you fell - no work, no wife, no family, no friend. Collapse, booze, mind broken . . . You were lucky you ended here.'
    The fire beyond the pillars flared and there was a shriek of laughter that echoed through the car park, across the empty bays.
    'What did you lose, Malachy?' The voice had
    softened. 'What replaced personal pride, self-esteem, respect? Shall I answer? Would it be shame?'
    Malachy whispered it: 'Disgust.'
    'What's it like? I don't know.'
    'It's demons. It's always with you. It's a torture chamber. There's no time in the day or the night that it's not with you.'
    'Let me tell you a story, Malachy, and listen well.
    I'm a young copper. I'm with a mate and it's the middle of a balls-freezing night and we get this call in Hackney. Intruder on the roof of a warehouse. My mate goes up on the roof, and I'm tracking along on the ground. My mate goes through the roof. I saw him in Stoke Mandeville when he hadn't been there - the spinal injuries unit - more than two days. He was weeping his eyes out, couldn't have been consoled because he was diagnosed as near quadriplegic. I made a big effort, because it had cut me right up, saw him again in a month, and when I went into the ward I could hear his laughter. It was food time and he was learning to eat and it was all over his front and his face, just like everyone else had it. He said to me, quiet, "What you learn in here, there's always someone worse off than yourself." A good sob story, yes?
    Last I heard of him he was doing a job, from a wheelchair, in police communications. Being called a cripple
    - that's not as bad as what they called you, but it's down that road. He was thought of as useless. Are you useless, Malachy?'
    'I don't know,' he said simply.
    'Do you want to find out?'
    A ripple of panic caught him. He sensed that everything was choreographed. 'What if there's no road back?' he blurted.
    'Always is, you have to believe that - otherwise stop fucking about and living like a goddamn recluse.
    Walk on to the bridge and bloody well jump. But you have to believe it. Malachy, get something in your mind.'
    'Tell me.'
    'You saw her. Bruises, broken arm, violated like they'd raped her.'
    'I saw her.'
    'There's a road back, Malachy.'
    Through the open window a slip of paper was

    passed to him by a hand gloved in black leather. He saw the glint of the eyes through the balaclava's slit as the man reached across. There was no light to read what was written on the paper and he pocketed it.
    'What do I have to do?'
    'Don't have to do anything, Malachy. The vagrants steal to buy the wraps. With the money they steal, from an old lady's purse, they buy. The dealers sell to them. You do what you want to do, Malachy. You do what you think is right, and maybe that'll make a ladder for you. Goodnight, keep safe.'
    The window was raised, and the engine was
    gunned to life. Without headlights, the car reversed sharply and swung, squealed tyres, between the pillars and out into the lit street. Malachy stood rooted, his mind pounding confusion.

Chapter Three
    He woke. It was already past eleven o'clock.
    The banging on his door drummed into his head. If it had not been for the sound Malachy would have slept on. He dragged himself off the bed.
    It had been a sleep he had not known for months, for a year. No dreams and no nightmares. No images squirming in his mind.
    The banging persisted. He shouted out that he was coming, but his voice was faint from a dried-out throat and the banging did not stop. He pulled on his trousers that he had dumped last night on the carpet when he had