Alarm!
When he hit the ground Andy yelled loud enough to make me jump. It was just a regular kind of yell, at least; an I’m-in-pain yelp. He stood up, squeezing his left hand shut with his right, and his face was almost gray.
“Is it the hand?” I asked, still well away from the fence. “How bad is it?”
“I broke a finger dropping down,” Andy grated out. “Fuck, it hurts.” I didn’t get shocked by that: ‘fuck’ sounded like the sort of thing you’d say when you broke a finger. “Where’s the door?”
My own face must have gotten gray at that. “Door?” I said very quickly as I stepped back one pace. “You meant the gate?”
“Yes! The gate to the fence! Where is it?”
“There isn’t one, Andy.”