Missing. 

That was a word I never would have thought to be used for my kid brother, ever. But that made sense, after all my unanswered calls and letters. Our house had been ransacked, and ripped apart, but there were signs that my brother had been steps ahead of them. Things that would have been meaningless to steal or borrow were missing. One of those things was a Christmas ornament, a simple pair of doves. My kid brother treasured the damn thing. 

Of all the reasons to come home, this was not the one I wanted. 

The neighbour had contacted the police after not seeing my brother for days, and they were able to connect with me. I had been up north being a game warden, sending money back for bills and funds for my brother. Taking a leave of absence, I came back down and checked things out for myself. 

The cops picked the house through well before I got back, and I was careful to look over everything, taking pictures. Our house was no longer a crime scene, and I could tidy it up. But in the three days since I returned, I did little. Not that I couldn’t. I didn’t want to stumble across anything that was worrying. A lot could happen in eight months. I honestly had no clue what kind of trouble my brother was in these days. For all I knew, he could even owe a few shady individuals money. That was always a possibility in this town. 

Things here were quiet, and it had a lovely small town charm. If you looked past the ‘occasional’ missing person and ‘accidents’. Crime flourished in this place, but only if you knew where to look for it. I just hoped my brother hadn’t known where to hunt for that kind of connection. 

If my brother was that kind of ‘‘missing’, the cops wouldn’t do anything, and next to nothing. They didn’t care. I had a few ideas of places to look, but they were walled off from public citizens. The mine and the surrounding buildings were probably the best bet. 

His body hadn’t turned up, and if he wasn’t there, he was alive. 

I knew I had to find him, and fast, or he could end up dead. I had to find answers, and the only way to do that was to take the risk and search the hidden places I wasn’t allowed. 

As a foster kid, that damn kid was the only family I had, and I wasn’t that willing to lose him. With eight years between us, we had been lucky to be raised together, until I aged out and worked my ass off to get him out and with me, too. Ten years we had been by each other’s side, and until recently, when I took the job up north, Roan Finch had been a decent teenager, and even an ok young adult. 

His room was the hardest hit zone in the house by both the cops and the intruders. Naturally, that was probably the most likely place for them both to look. But I knew better. Roan hid things in my room, and had since fourteen. But I found nothing when I looked around the room. Either he had hidden nothing, or it was already found. 

I was certain Roan was hiding something, so I went through his things in the only other place I could think of. A loose floorboard under his bed. Roan had claimed he nailed the board back down, but I found that to be a lie, but I didn’t press him on it then. Papers and small scraps of paper covered the top of the spot, and I moved them to the side. A small receipt caught my eye and as soon as I read it, I knew Roan had been keeping a secret from me.

Roan had twenty grand in his bank account. 

I definitely hadn’t given that to him, and he was a college kid. There was no way that was money he could make. Something else in the floor caught my eye, and I lifted the small bag out. Drugs. And it wasn’t something you grew from seeds. This was pure chemicals. 

There were enough of the drugs to land both Roan and me in prison for drug possession and drug trafficking. Neither charge was one I needed or wanted. With this amount and the money in Roan’s account, things were adding up, and I didn’t like where this was going. Roan was trafficking drugs, or using the online degree I was paying for, for him to craft drugs. If I got my hands on the kid before whoever else was looking for him, I might just kill him myself. 

Shoving everything back into the floor carefully, I covered it back up with the board and stood up, dusting my pants off. The fear that my brother was dead covered my anger with Roan, all because of the stupid shit he got involved in. 

The mine was the best spot right now to look. There were ways to get into the mine. Roan and I had done it together a few times when he was younger. The buildings nearby would offer protection and shelter, but possibly a place for Roan to manufacture his goods if he was. But would he go there on the run? That was the question I just didn’t know the answer to. 

Heading downstairs, I grabbed my coat and hiking boots. I had enough hours left of sunlight to look through the ruins, but I grabbed a flashlight to be safe. Putting my stuff on, I headed out into the cold. It was colder, but the recent snow had melted and the ground was frozen again, concealing my footprints, and anyone else’s. 

Halfway to the mine, I regretted not grabbing gloves. My fingers were icy. Tucking them into the pockets, I carried on. The fence surrounding the mine stood up proudly, some of the older parts now having been replaced. Looking around, I grabbed the fence and gave it a shake. Little movement happened as a result, so I felt pretty comfortable going over the top now. 

My feet hit the ground on the other side. And I stopped to blow warm air on my hands, and take a deep breath of the icy air. My breath was visible, and the wind picked up a little. If my brother was out here, the kid had to be frozen down to the bone and I hated even thinking about that. But again, that was better than him being dead. 

 I took another deep breath, and a shiver ran down my spine from the cold. I had to keep moving, and I knew I had to find him. Walking further, and down the bank of the hill, I found the older unused road. If I followed it, it would lead me right to the mine, and the other way would lead back to the city. The unused, abandoned buildings were just above the mine, and could be accessed with this road too. 

The temperature was definitely dropping the closer I got to the mine. Jamming my hands into my pockets, I listened around for sounds other than my footsteps. Despite this being an abandoned road, there was proof of activity recently. Fresh tire tracks on the road, going towards the mine. Moving out of the middle of the road, I lingered by the side near the trees in case I quickly had to hide from someone. 

Leaves crunched under my feet as I got to the end of the road, right by the mine. It was quiet, like normal, and nothing stuck out telling me it was being used by anyone. It looked the same as usual. The abandoned buildings were next on my list of places to look for Roan. 

Getting to them was easier said, then done. Hiking down the side of one hill, and over the top of another one, I hid against the side of a building to catch my breath before carrying on. 

Something really stuck with me after looking at a few of the buildings now up close. They weren’t like I remembered. They were cleaner, the graffiti on the sides gone, and broken windows now fixed. Surely someone would have piped up around town if they had brought this dump and planned to fix it back up. Getting up on the side of a bin, I looked through the window of the building I was leaned against. Inside the building in the dim lights, I could see wooden crates, dozens of them. They didn’t have any labels or anything I could identify on them, so I had no clue what was inside them. But like the fresh paint, windows and the rest of the stuff, they were new too. 

Moving from that building, I went to another after hearing a soft bang. The windows of this building were a little lower, and I could see inside. Even with his back turned, I knew Roan’s build. He was working away on something, another man close by with a weapon on his hip, and he was bitching with Roan about something. 

Oddly, they looked almost friendly together, but our house remained as a testament that was not the truth. I watched Roan pull a hand through his hair, and when he stepped back, my heart sank, and anger filled me.

He was manufacturing drugs for criminals. 

Anger filled me and I wanted to curse at him through the closed window, but that would do neither of us any good right now. I had to work on getting him out of here. Picking up a rock, I slung it at the window, and it shattered. I didn’t bother to check to see if that got the man’s attention. I just took off into hiding. Sneaking around the other side of the building, I opened the door and stepped inside, hiding among the wooden crates. 

The man returned, and he spoke to Roan in a rude tone before he got a call, and stepped out to take it. Coming out from hiding, I snuck up behind Roan and covered his mouth with my hand. He flailed and his elbow was driven into my ribs and I hissed, dropping him. He stopped after hearing my hiss and turned around. His eyes were wide. 

“No! You can’t be here,” he hissed, and panic filled him.