My Brother Disappeared Along The Oregon Coast, And I Think Whatever Took Him Is After My Whole Family

I hopped back up onto my four wheeler and shot a look back at Calvin, who looked like he hadn’t even moved from the last time I saw him. In fact, the only movement he appeared to make was to lean over, put his hands on his knees and dry heave until he fell over onto the ground.

Well fuck me. Here I was, on the cold Oregon dunes in the middle of the night with one brother who had been abducted by some sort of Close Encounters of the Third Kind blue orb another brother who was trying to kick heroin in the middle of our rescue mission.

“Aw fuck, Cal, are you really going to do this right now?”

Calvin couldn’t even lift his head back up when he yelled back at me.

“You think I want this to be happening? I should be going to the hospital right now.”

Calvin was right. There was nothing he could really do about his situation, and even though it was his fault, yelling at him wouldn’t do anything to help with the main problem at hand.

But I had an idea.

I was sure Calvin had brought some heroin with him in one of his bags. I never saw anything, but the way he had guarded the bag ever since we had picked him up, convinced me there was something in there he didn’t want us to find.

About the author

Jack Follman

Jack has written professionally as a journalist, fiction writer, and ghost writer. For more information, visit his website.

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