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

“I don’t know. Maybe your little bottle rocket stunt made him crash?”

“Really Cal? They’re fucking bottle rockets. What, are you scared of sparklers too?”

“I was mostly joking, man.”

I fired my engine back up.

“But let’s go check on him.”

I raced back up the track from which I came with Calvin tailing me. I stopped when I got to about ¾’s of the way through the course, around where I shot the bottle rockets at Calvin and Roger.

I stopped my four wheeler, killed the engine, and jumped off into the sand.

Three sets of tracks were pushed into the sand below my feet. I followed them up the course until I saw one pair of tracks veer off to the left, towards the ocean.

“So maybe your bottle rocket stunt did fuck him up?” Calvin said flatly.

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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