Cursing, Johnny tumbled to the ground, clutching his bloodied shin. "You and your shortcuts, Kelly."
"I didn't hear you complaining when we set off."
"Let me have a look," said Roy.
Crouching beside his partner, he had barely begun examining the wound when he heard a loud gasp from Chet. "It's just a scratch," Roy assured him. "I didn't think you were so squeamish."
Seemingly oblivious, Chet dropped to his knees alongside the tangle of rusty barbed wire upon which Johnny had caught himself. "Incredible! Talk about dumb luck."
"Huh?"
"I've spent years searching for this variant strand of Atkinson."
