Free A Perfect Passion by Piper Kay Page A

he knows better than this.
    I contin ue taking longer strides to search for him. He’s nowhere to be seen. Off to the side of the work area, there is a small construction trailer, and two green port-a-potties, so I walk that direction.
    Th e lock on the trailer is secure and it’s dark inside. I holler out for Damien, but get no answer. I check the portables and they’re both empty.
    Shit, I have no idea where he could be? Maybe I didn’t go far enough down the actual site , it’s hard to see out here in the dark. I track back over, and walk a little further. The part of the road they are laying is a single lane that runs along the side of the freeway, where it would normally only be separated from the feeder road by a median, and it stretches about a two hundred feet.
    I see the fresh footprints in the mud, so I follow them. Water is standing inside the new road. It looks to be about a foot deep. Straight ahead, I trace my line of vision, until I see something. I’m sure it’s just materials for the job, but I walk another ten feet, and see it.
    “D amien, Damien! Oh fuck me, shit!” In a panic, I run to him, my heart is about to beat out of my chest, I can’t catch my breath.
    Damien is lying on his back, near the dropdown. Oh God! Damien’s body is half submerged in the muddy water, his clothes are drenched. He’s not moving. Fuck! I grab him underneath his knees and behind his neck, raising him to the surface, and laying him flat on the muddy ground. I shred my shirt over my head and wad it up to place under his head.
    “Damien, can you hear me? Damien!” I slap his face. Please!
    Damien’s stomach rises and falls, thank God, he’s breathing. His pulse is thread, but it’s there. I need help for him, quick. Dammit, my cell is back in my truck.
    “Damien, I have to get my phone, to call for help. I’ll be right back, I have to go to my truck. ”
    I sprint to my truck, just as Damien’s headlights die out. What the fuck happened to him? I slam my truck door open, and jump inside and start it. I snatch my cell, hit 9-1-1, and throw it in gear, pulling up closer to him. He’s still lying there, not moving. I dig around my toolbox, jerking out a towel.
    After my call goes through, I give the best description of where we are, and ask for an ambulance and police. I run back to Damien, still on the phone with the emergency operator. She informs me that the units have been dispatched.
    With the towel, I go to cover his chest and arm s, but stop. He’s got blood all over him and his face is bruised. I reach around his head gently, until I find the source of the blood. His head is split open. I pull out my pocketknife and tear long strips off of the towel, and I wrap several layers around his head, tying it at his forehead. I lay the remainder of the towel down him long ways.
    “Damien, can you hear me? Who did this, what happened?”
    The sirens sounds are getting closer. I feel helpless. I’m not sure what to do now. I want to hold him close to me, but I know you’re not supposed to move someone in case they’re in internal damage. I already moved him from the water and lifted his head to wrap him.
    “FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK!”
    My pulse is racing, fear waves all through me. I’m fucking helpless right now, I can’t do anything, it’s out of my hands. My neck muscles tighten. My heart hammers in panic. Adrenaline surges, twisting into anger, then fear and frustration. The deep pounding of a bass drum vibrates in my ears, I think it’s my heartbeat.  Not again, please not again! Images of my brother play out in my mind, like an old movie. This can’t be happening again. I should have been here. I could have stopped this, or I could have helped him. I never should have let him come alone. I wasn’t here for him, just like I wasn’t there for my own brother. How fucking stupid can I be? Pacing in circles, I run my fingers through my hair and squeeze the side of my head near my temples. God Dammit,