Highland Cove

by Dylan J. Morgan

  ~~

  The swell threatened to dislodge him from the rowboat but Codie held fast to the edge of O’Connell’s larger vessel and corrected his stance. He stood at the bow, Kristen’s caring hand clamped on to the waistband of his jeans in case he lost his balance. Almost all of their gear was piled into whatever free space they had in the boat. Julian and Alex sat cramped together at the stern, both sharing a bench barely wide enough to seat one. Liam cut a forlorn figure, slumped between a pair of rucksacks as he leaned over the side. He’d stopped retching, but the seasickness continued to grip him.

  In the near distance lines of white breakers assaulted the coastline. Dull against the darker ocean, the wooden dock stretched out into the surf. Green vegetation undulated in a breeze riding over the island’s southern shore, and beyond that, the abandoned building stood like an ominous portent, echoing the haunting grey of approaching thunderheads.

  “This is bullshit,” Alex exclaimed. “You said you’d take us to the island. We paid you to get us over the channel.”

  O’Connell handed the last of the luggage down to Codie and looked across at Alex. “And I have gotten ye over the channel. But ye didnae pay me enough to dock at the jetty.” With obvious discomfort, the old sailor straightened his back and cast a wary gaze over the rolling surf to the shoreline. “Ye couldnae pay me enough to dock at the jetty.”

  “We’ll be fine from here,” Codie said and gave O’Connell a tight smile. Alex muttered, “The hell we will,” but Codie ignored him. He dumped the final bag onto the bottom of the boat and stepped to the middle bench.

  Sitting down with his back to the island he grabbed an oar, lifted it awkwardly, and dropped it into the rowlock. Kristen helped to drag the other oar from under the seat and he smiled his thanks at her. He looked back to the old man’s battered vessel, the current already separating them from the boat.

  “You’ll come by in two days to pick us up?” Codie yelled.

  O’Connell gave a sharp nod; at least he thought the man had. “Two days.”

  “Good, see you then.”

  As Codie dug both oars into the pulsing surf and directed the boat towards the shore he heard O’Connell’s voice, rasping and old above the lapping water and calling wind.

  “Take care on the island. The dead walk there!”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A wave of relief rippled through her as she stepped onto the wooden jetty, thankful to finally be out of the row boat. It’d only been a short trip from the old man’s vessel to shore, but the surf had made the journey choppy and wet—not that she’d noticed the extra water much. With little room in the small boat, she had a difficult time keeping herself stable while also holding on to their equipment.

  Kristen Hughes was beginning to think that she shouldn’t have come along, which made her curse her mum more.

  She turned back to face the boat and grabbed her bag from Codie. It contained three changes of clothing and she looked forward to discarding the waterlogged outfit clinging to her skin. She’d taken toiletries, a brush, but minimal make-up.

  Two nights on a deserted island; she didn’t need to look her best.

  “Can you manage one more?” Codie asked.

  She shrugged. “Of course.”

  He handed her one of the bags containing camera equipment, its weight more than she’d expected. Thankfully the rain had stopped but the wind continued to whip off the ocean’s surface in wet, cold gusts. A bag in each hand made her gait awkward, and she didn’t trust the jetty. Ruts and fractures dotted the pier’s timber, and she found it incredible that the entire length hadn’t eroded into the sea. Algae and mould coated the surface of each plank, the boards glazed with rainwater. One wrong step and she could slip off into the shallows, maybe sustain an injury. Like fossilized rib bones, rotten timber curled from the water near the shore. What remained of an old rowing boat, it seemed, now succumbed to time and the battering of the sea.

  Stepping onto shore, Kristen exhaled. Dry land at last, but the boat’s rocking continued to play with her balance. Setting down the case loaded with camera equipment, she rotated an ache out of her shoulder and glanced around.

  Stones littered the beach, vegetation trying to find purchase amid the pebbles. Seaweed marked a meandering black line where high tide had managed to advance. Bushes leaned close to the beach, partially obscuring a narrow trail leading further into the island. A wire fence stretched along the shore until it disappeared around the curve of land. High enough to discourage trespassers from climbing over it, the fence no longer provided the kind of barrier it’d once had. The posts leaned at angles in some places, underbrush climbing up the wire from the surrounding shrubbery. A combination of bad weather and the passage of time had taken its toll on the barrier. Whoever had wanted to keep people out obviously had no desire to repair the fence. Where the track left the beach, previous visitors to the island had sliced a hole in the mesh, creating an opening.

  Her gaze followed the path until it disappeared from view, and then the building’s solitary tower caught her attention. The dark stone deepened the surrounding twilight, hastening night’s arrival. A narrow balcony ringed the top of the structure, the uppermost room containing windows like dead eyes. A shiver traversed her spine but it had nothing to do with the sea’s chilling wind. She’d heard the stories of this place, mainly told by Codie and his buddies, but the image of a man climbing over the railing and falling to his death haunted her thoughts. What had happened here to make a schooled man take his own life?

  “Make sure it’s tied off tight,” she heard Codie say from the dock, his voice a welcome excuse to tear her gaze from the tower.

  Her boyfriend of four years, the only person in her life she’d come to realize she could trust, hefted three bags into his arms as he instructed Julian about securing the rowing boat. Toned and fit, he’d always been the talk of her girlfriends, how each of them had wanted him at one time or another through school, and in a way she regretted that she hadn’t kept in touch with her gang from back then. If they knew Codie Jackson had chosen her, and turned out to be every bit the man they’d assumed he was, they’d be envious beyond belief. A grin tugged at her lips and for a fleeting moment the biting wind and her wet clothes ceased to be a problem. He’d offered to cancel the trip when she’d knocked on his door last night. The argument she’d had with her mother continued to ring in her ears even now, mainly due to the nonstop shouting and verbal abuse her mum had levelled at her for most of yesterday evening. The woman was a bitch, she’d never change. Kristen had told her younger sister that very thing six months ago; said the only way they’d ever be rid of the cruelty and drunken outbursts was to find a way to escape for good. She’d told her a week before Jenny wandered into the garden after midnight and hung herself in the wooden shed. Kristen had packed quickly, barely able to distinguish what outfits she was choosing amidst the tears clouding her eyes, and couldn’t leave the house fast enough. Codie had been at home, reliable as always, but she hadn’t expected him to offer to quit this project for her. Not wanting him to have regrets caused by her doing, she’d persuaded him to continue with their original plan to make this documentary, only with her along as support. He hadn’t liked the idea, had wanted to protect her, but she’d bought a ticket for the train journey up from London and told him her mind was made up. Besides, she didn’t believe in ghosts. The stories about this place were just that: stories—made-up tales designed to make a deserted island and abandoned building famous to a select few.

  She hadn’t expected the journey to be this arduous, however.

  Codie hopped down from the jetty onto the stones and placed the luggage in a pile. He stepped up to her with a knowing smile and she grinned in response. Slipping an arm around her waist he pulled her close, closing his lips over hers. Deep warmth flushed through her, chasing the chill from her wet clothes. Instinctively she closed her eyes, savouring his taste and melting into his touch. Every kiss with Codie Jackson felt like their fir
st one.

  “Ugh, get a room,” Alex said.

  Codie laughed and pointed up the incline to the old asylum. “Who needs a room when we have an entire building?”

  “Yeah,” Julian said, “you and about a thousand invisible guests.”

  They all laughed this time; Kristen joined in but a shiver grappled with her spine and slid down her lower back. She looked up to the tower once more and in the deepening evening it appeared more eerie than ever. Clearing her throat, she reminded herself that the dead were gone and only fleeting memories remained.

  The last to step down from the pier, Liam set his bag down and hauled in a deep breath. The colour had drained from his cheeks, his hair a knotted mess upon his head. Leaning forward he rested his hands on his knees, obviously trying to combat the nausea.

  Codie stepped up to him. “You okay, mate?”

  With a nod Liam straightened. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Shit, I knew this would happen.” He pulled a bottle of water from the front pocket of his rucksack, and screwed off the lid. Gulping back a mouthful, he reached inside his jacket, took out a tablet, and popped it into his mouth. Another swallow of water and he put the bottle back, this time taking out a chocolate bar. He showed it to Codie. “A few bites of this and I’ll be good as new.”

  Julian busied himself with his bags, tightening straps and inspecting the external pockets. Alex folded his arms as though his patience had already worn out. She guessed coming here must be extremely important for Liam to suffer through the boat trip. Codie had told her about his fascination with the paranormal, about how he was a true believer and had all the gear to hunt for ghosts. She liked Liam, he’d been Codie’s friend since they were infants; hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed when they didn’t discover anything. Giving his best friend a pat on the back, Codie walked over to the bags.

  “Let’s gather up our gear,” he said, “start the trek up to the asylum before darkness settles in.”

  She wished he wouldn’t call the building that. It conjured images of mental patients strapped down on trolleys being subjected to demeaning and horrific experiments. With a shake of her head to disperse a fear building in her gut, Kristen grabbed her bag and headed for the fence.

  ~~

  Having held open the gap in the wire fence to enable the others to squeeze through, Codie tossed his bag inside and stepped through the hole. Gathering his luggage, he hurried to the others and linked his fingers into Kristen’s. She clutched his hand and gave him a smile, yet didn’t appear entirely cheerful. The argument with her mum no doubt bothered her, dredging up all those horrible memories again. Perhaps it was this place and the eerie sensation surrounding the island that stole her optimism. It flowed in with the sea breeze, a chill that had nothing to do with the coast’s autumn weather.

  He’d noticed gulls all along the mainland’s coastline, and a few had followed O’Connell’s boat across the strait, but here the skies were empty and quiet.

  Liam appeared beside him. “Can you feel that?”

  Ahead of them, Alex said, “All I feel is cold and miserable.”

  Codie rolled his eyes and looked at Liam. “Feel what?”

  “The electricity, man; this entire island is buzzing with it.” He dug a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small handheld device. He studied it for a moment and then presented it to Codie. “Look, the EMF reading is almost at three. There’s no electricity on this island; the supply was shut down when they closed the asylum, and there’s no overhead power cables either. This thing should be reading zero.”

  Alex scoffed. “That’s probably just leftover charges from the storm that just blew through.”

  “That wasn’t a thunderstorm,” Julian said.

  “Could it be electrical readings from us?” Kristen suggested.

  “Nah,” Liam said, “it’s this island’s inhabitants. They’re all around us.”

  “Can you see them?”

  “No,” Liam said with a chuckle. “It’s more like a feeling—a knowing.”

  Codie looked at his best friend and Liam gave him a smile. Finally, the guy was enjoying himself, regaining the excitement he’d had before stepping onto the old man’s boat. Cresting the small rise from the beach, Codie stopped and turned, casting his gaze back over the ocean. Twilight draped a thickening blanket over the mainland, night’s advance held at bay by a cluster of lights from the hamlet. The sea undulated lazily, as if catching breath in a lull between storms. O’Connell’s boat had gone, and taken the seagulls with it.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Julian had stopped a dozen or so paces ahead. “Shall we get inside and settle in, get ready for the night?”

  Turning from the ocean, Codie surveyed the surrounding land. Low shrubbery covered the southern lawn; grass swept away from the main building and followed the rolling landscape towards the isle’s western coast. Past the asylum house, beyond a shed and what appeared to be a battered stable, the terrain climbed into rocky crags that formed a drop-off to the beach below. There, over that precipice, the corpses of plague victims and deceased mental patients were thrown to the sea. Rumour had it the northern shoreline was formed from the bones of the dead. The sun’s glowing orb dipped into the ocean horizon, the water dousing light from the day.

  Codie shook his head. “We’ve still got about a half hour of daylight left. It’d be a good idea to get some footage of the outside: twilight shining off the windows, the sun setting into the horizon, that kind of thing.”

  “Okay, cool,” Julian said with a nod, and continued up the path towards the building. Alex muttered something, his words stolen by the wind. The guy always had to make a complaint about something; nothing ever seemed good enough.

  Codie squeezed Kristen’s hand, and placed his gloved palm against her cheek. “Is that okay?”

  She nodded. “Sure, of course. I think I’ll need to get changed, though.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. I know Liam wants to get inside and set up his equipment, perhaps you two can go on ahead while we get some pre-night footage out here.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, and when she smiled it was the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

  Leaving his hand on her face, Codie leaned in and pressed his lips against hers once more. They were cold, dried from the wind and salty air, but they belonged against his. She leaned into him and in that moment, as in every moment, they were one. Breaking the embrace, they grinned at each other, a look that told more than all the words of affection they’d ever said. He let go of her hand and stooped to pick up his rucksack as she walked ahead to catch up with Liam. Even wearing a thick winter coat and hair tangled from the wind, she had a radiance that pulled him in.

  She’d captured his heart four years previously and he never wanted her to release it.

  Kristen and Liam walked up the path towards the building, skirting around the tower to head for the main entrance. Out on the lawn Julian squatted near one of his bags, organizing his equipment to capture some film. Alone, Alex had moved to the tower, staring at its highest point where the institution’s insane doctor had leapt to his death. A macabre thought entered Codie’s head, and he wondered if traces of the professor’s dried blood could still be found under the gravel path below the tower. Chill wind whipped around him and drops of water touched his face. He glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the churning mass of clouds rolling over the mainland as the latest rainstorm made its journey to the island.

  Hurrying across the lawn to where Julian stood with the camera, Codie hoped they’d get some good material of the asylum’s foreboding silhouette before night’s darkness swallowed them all.

  ~~

  Six decades ago, before the doors closed for the last time, Kristen suspected the entrance had represented a state of splendour. Now it merely reflected the horror and suffering that had tainted its residents. Six steps led to the entryway, the stairway’s iron balustrade rusted and insecure. The island had begun to reclaim the treads, grass protruding through crack
s in the loose concrete. Rubble from the damaged portico littered the veranda and spilled down over the steps. Panels on either side of the double doors no longer contained glass, the doors themselves boarded over with timber now rotten and green with algae.

  Picking a path up the wobbly steps Kristen climbed cautiously towards the main entrance. Liam lingered on the lawn, snapping a few pictures with his phone. Moving onto the veranda she paused; glanced at a wooden bench pushed against the wall, moss clinging to its surface, someone’s cap discarded on the seat and almost concealed under a blanket of dead leaves.

  The doors were not locked, probably cracked open by previous investigators to the island. In a way she wished it had been barred, that they couldn’t get into the building, but there was no need to lock anyone inside anymore. With the door open an inch, she wondered what it had let out. Kristen smiled at her stupidity and shook her head. Codie’s tales of this place and the asylum’s appearance had her spooked, nothing more. Through the slit between the double doors she watched gloom settling within the foyer, shadows spilling into the area in anticipation of night’s approach.

  She hesitated, and then stepped to the partially opened door. Raising her hand, she brushed fingers over dried paint peeling from the timber. Leaning further forward she stared through the opening at a floor coated with dirt and the remains of a building crumbling on its foundations.

  A door slammed shut in the building’s depths.

  Wind whistled through the gap with the murmur of a whispered voice.

  With a gasp Kristen stepped away, gaze fixed on the door, expecting it to widen at any moment.

  A hand pressed into the small of her back and she flinched again, spinning from the touch. Liam stepped onto the porch, pushing his phone into his pants pocket. He looked at her, his smile settling her nerves somewhat.

  “Are you okay?”