“I’m just going to go up and down the track and then up and down the beach again and look for him. You should stay here in case he comes back.”

I watched Calvin fall down onto his stomach and retch a little bit more then spit out the last foamy contents of his stomach.

“That’s cool,” Calvin mumbled.

I knew Calvin would work his way to his feet as soon as I left, stumble over to the truck, find his bag and get loaded. I knew it was wrong, but it was right at the moment. He was going to be out of commission either way, so I might as well make sure he was out of commission and probably not going to die from withdrawal.

The usual feeling of power which surged over me once I jumped up onto my four wheeler and fired the ignition failed to ignite in my bones. I usually felt like a Viking approaching a helpless village once I got onto the stout vehicle, but all of that confidence was gone. It’s kind of hard to think of yourself as a badass when all you can picture in your head is your brother drowning in the dark waves of the ocean.

With a knot of fear building in the back of my skull like a headache from a bad hangover, I flicked my headlight on and headed back onto the dark path of the racing course all alone. A frigid wind greeted me as soon as I hit the throttle and whipped up underneath the lining of my jacket and shivered my soft skin.