Page 3 of Stay With Me
“Billy!” I shout, lowering myself to the driver’s side window. It’s shattered, but I can’t see inside.
“Turn on your flashlight,” I tell Miller.
“Is he in there?” he asks, pointing his phone toward me.
“Billy?” I poke my head in as far as I can. “He ain’t here.”
“What the fuck? Maybe he got thrown or climbed out?”
I pull my own phone out and turn on the flashlight so I can look at the passenger’s side.
“That window is shattered, too. He coulda crawled out of either one. Fuck!”
“Is that blood?” Miller’s shaky tone grabs my attention, the light pinned to the spot he’s referring to. A pool of red liquid.
“Shit. He probably smacked his head or cut himself. We need to find him. I’m callin’ the sheriff.”
“Wait, why?”
I wave out my hand as if it isn’t obvious.
“Dude, we’re underage. He’ll ticket everyone at my house.”
“I wasn’t drinkin’, and you weren’t drivin’. He ain’t gonna be worryin’ about that when there’s a missin’ teenager.”
He sighs but doesn’t argue. As soon as I get the dispatcher and tell her what’s going on, Wendy informs me she’ll send someone out. That could take ten minutes or two hours. Sugarland Creek’s a small enough town that there’s only a handful of deputies on staff.
I grab a couple of larger flashlights from my back seat, then toss one to Miller.
“Let’s start walkin’ around and see if he passed out somewhere. He couldn’t have gone far with injuries. Hell, he could be bleedin’ out. We need to find him and fast.” The harder my heart pounds, the harder it is to get my words out.
“Billy! Billy! Where are you?” I shout into the distance.
I try his phone again to see if I can hear it ringing, but it sends me straight to voicemail again.
“Look on the other side of the road in case he crossed it,” I tell Miller. “He couldn’t have gone far.”
We shout his name, flashing my light between trees and up and down the ditch.
“Maybe someone picked him up?”
“Or maybe we’re going the wrong way,” I bite out, angry at the thought. If he was going back to Miller’s, then we’re headed in the right direction, but if he’s heading to mine, then he’d be in the opposite direction.
“Let’s head back to my truck and wait for the sheriff. Maybe he’ll?—”
I stop dead in my tracks when I spot something up ahead in the middle of the road. It’s too big to be a small animal, but it could be a deer. My gut tells me it’s not.
“Billy!” I yell, pointing when Miller looks at me. “That him?”
Sprinting with my breath caught in my lungs, I exhale when I confirm it is.
“Christ, Billy. Wake up.” I kneel beside him and Miller comes to his other side. Billy’s on his stomach as if he face-planted on the cement.
“Hold your flashlight up,” I demand so I can turn him over, then place two fingers on his neck. Blood covers his forehead and cheeks. “I don’t feel a pulse.” Then I lean down until my ear’s above his mouth. “He ain’t breathing.”
“Oh my God.” Miller’s whispered voice is filled with desperation.
“I’m gonna do CPR. Back up and keep the light on him.” Once my hands are in position, I start chest compressions.
