Call of the Alpha - Part 1(4)



Sure enough, she could now see an arm. It was sticking out from a small bundle of brambles and leaves. Then, once she saw the arm, the rest of his body was easy to see. She hadn’t seen it before because he was partially covered in the muck along the bottom of the ditch.

It was a man, wearing absolutely nothing more than the dirt and mud that he had landed in. A scattering of twigs and leaves covered most of his body below his chest. His eyes looked wide and afraid in the scant light from the flashlight. But still, she saw him and he saw her—and again, she was very aware of the life that was coming off of him. She had sensed something similar before in the ER, but never quite like this.

“Hold on,” she said. “I’m coming down.”

“No…no need,” the man said.

Jessica ignored this and continued on. She clambered over the rail and held onto the edge of it as she tiptoed along the thin edge of ground that gave away to the steep drop of the deep ditch less than two feet away from the toes of her sneakers. With the flashlight in one hand and the first aid kit and blanket in the other, it was hard to keep her balance and not fall into that dark ditch, but she was finally able to make it to the point where the ground evened out a bit. She tested it with her foot and found it wet and soft, but sturdy enough to walk on.

She took several steps down and looked up to see that the guard rail was easily three feet over her head now. She could barely see the flickering of her emergency lights and once again wished that someone else would come by. But down here in the ditch, that hope seemed incredibly small.

The ditch was very wide—far too wide to jump over—so she walked along the rim of it. Her sneakers made squelching sounds in the muck but it was easy-going. Within a few feet, the figure of the man in the ditch came into view in the glare of the small flashlight beam. His eyes landed on her and he seemed both surprised and afraid.

“I’m…okay,” he said. “Please…don’t…come…”

“Quiet,” Jessica snapped. It was frightening how quickly the no-nonsense nurse in her came to the surface, even outside of the hospital walls. “Save your strength. And you are clearly hurt. I can see the scratches from here.”

This was true. But what she was really looking for were broken bones and any signs of blood. So far, she saw none…but that wasn’t saying much, given the weak nature of her tiny light.


“You don’t…understand,” the man said.

“I’m a nurse,” she said. “So actually, I do understand.”

She closed in on him and was again very much aware that he was naked. She saw small patches of flesh along his leg where the muck had not covered. She could see the shape of his penis through the mud and leaves but this didn’t throw her off. Surprisingly, she’d seen much worse in the ER.

She was only two feet away from him now. The fear in his eyes was gone and all that was left was pain and something like resentment. Also, now that she was right beside him, Jessica saw that the man was not breathing well. He was drawing it in through deep gasps and when he exhaled, it was shaky and shallow. She looked him over as well as she could. When her hands touched his shoulders, he flinched from her.

“Does that hurt?” she asked.

“No,” he gasped.

“Does anything hurt?”

“My hip. My left leg. And the wind…got knocked out of me. Haven’t gotten it back quite yet.”

“Okay,” she said. She checked his hip and his left leg but couldn’t find anything too badly injured. “Well, I don’t think anything is broken,” she said hopefully.

“There isn’t,” he said. “It’s just…shock. I can…get up.”

“No, you can’t,” she said. But suddenly, as she looked to his face for the first time and saw the glint in his eyes, she wondered if he might be right. From the first moment she had seen him here in the ditch to this very moment, he already seemed to have gained back a lot of his strength.

Maybe it was shock, she thought. I barely clipped him and if he went straight to the ditch without hitting any rocks or the guardrail, he could have missed any substantial injuries. It’s a long shot for sure…but certainly not unheard of.

She saw a large gash on his chest, just above the ribs. It was bleeding a bit but not badly. Still, it was wide and it would get infected if not tended to. She pried open the first aid kit, wiped the gash clean with a pad, and then bandaged it as well as she could.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. And then, out of nowhere, he stood. He tottered on his feet, the leaves and muck slowly sliding down him for a moment, and then he fell back down with an almost comical plop back into the mud.

“I’ll help you,” she said. “Are you sure nothing hurts?”

“Not too bad.”

She fought the instincts that told her not to move him. She could drive home and call an ambulance for him from her landline. But if there was something damaged internally, he could bleed further or die during the wait. Then again, if there was something wrong internally and she moved him, that could be bad, too.

But he seemed coherent and, oddly enough, to be regaining his strength quickly. The question would be whether or not she could get him out of the ditch and up the hill to the road.

“Can you try standing again?” she asked.

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