"Ah, forget it." The man sounded even more tired as he leaned back against the wall. With his right hand he reached around under his left arm, probing at his ribs. When he brought his hand back, the fingers were dark, shining with something wet. "Frag," he muttered. "It’s opened up again. I guess you don’t have a slap patch on you?" He snorted. "Didn’t think so."