“Scratched it?” Mike grabbed Ben’s arm before he could pull it away, trying to make out the cut in the moonlight, “Ben, that’s gonna need stitches. dash,” he cursed, “Come on, we’ve gotta go back and have that checked out.”

“I can’t go back,” Ben said.

“Listen, I don’t know exactly what Richard’s done, but right now I don’t care. Look at your arm man, you need to go to a  hospital.”

“It’s fine,” Ben said, trying to convince himself as much as Mike, the cut did look pretty deep, and his hand was covered in blood.

“It’s not  fine, here,” Mike took off his T-shirt, “Tie this around it.”

“It’ll be ruined.” Ben protested, “My arm’s fine.”