Highland Cove

by Dylan J. Morgan

  It’d been there when they’d passed through earlier; Liam remembered filming back down the corridor before they’d moved on and captured the wheelchair stationary in front of an open door. None of the others would have come back here and moved it. Maybe the camera had recorded what had happened, and his heartrate spiked at the thought.

  A few more strides down the hall brought him level with the doorway and he paused at the entrance. He raised the torch, directing the beam across the dusty floor until it settled over the wheelchair sitting in the centre of the bedroom. It could have been dust particles disturbed by a wind, or condensation in the room’s cold air, but when he saw a wafer-thin outline disperse into darkness it resembled a child hopping from the chair. He waited in silence, moving the beam around the room hoping to see something more, but darkness beyond the light remained unbroken. His attention drifted back to the wheelchair, wondering who had pushed it into the room and put the brakes on the wheels.

  He stepped away from the door, turned and looked towards the corridor’s nearest corner. His torch light picked up the first static camera he’d set up the previous evening. He’d left it, at the end of the long passageway, but it no longer stood on the tripod, it lay in dust coating the floor.

  It’d not been disturbed when they’d walked through earlier, so something—or more likely someone—had knocked it over sometime after they’d retreated to the ground level. He hoped it still functioned, that it’d caught the wheelchair’s movements or maybe whatever had bumped into the camera. If the footage revealed anything at all paranormal he’d make Julian and Alex sit in silence and watch it all.

  Stepping over to where the camera lay, he gingerly picked it up and inspected its lens and LCD display. There were no cracks in the glass, and the display showed the hallway floor, bathed in the green of infrared light. Liam released a heavy breath, relieved that nothing had been broken. Nothing had disturbed the dirt at his feet, and the footprint currently visible in the LCD was probably one of theirs from earlier that night. With deliberate movements he unscrewed the camera from the tripod and placed the stand back on the floor. A quick glance down the hallway revealed nothing in the heavy shawl of night; the only sound being the wind’s moan and rain’s incessant tapping on the windows.

  He knelt near the tripod, leaned a shoulder against the wall and cupped the camera in his hands. Tilting the LCD screen towards his face, he rewound the footage a few minutes before pressing play. The dark screen cleared into a vision of emerald green, the camera capturing his figure standing in the doorway only a few moments ago as he studied the wheelchair. The angle was strange, tilted to the side as the camera lay on the floor. Clicking the rewind button, Liam watched the image crackle as the recording spun backwards, tracking him as he hurriedly walked in reverse into the darkness. His patience at watching nothing happen almost left him until the screen flipped abruptly into its correct orientation. But the wheelchair still wasn’t there. He waited ten seconds, almost twenty of rewinding the recording before the wheelchair appeared in the screen, where he’d seen it at sunset. Quickly pressing the play button, Liam swallowed hard and watched the footage.

  The corridor tapered away into darkness, the walls green under infrared light. A small speck of something drifted over the wheelchair, disappearing into the room. Liam had seen it before, in other buildings at different locations, but not often: the particle moving too uniformly and straight to be dust riding a current of air. A spirit, he was sure of it, a spectral entity travelling through its realm. He noticed others on the screen, dim circles of white drifting silently through the dirty corridor. This ward’s young patients, free of their tortured existence, still playing their childhood games.

  The wheelchair moved. He probably would have missed it had he not been looking at the wheel’s spokes, noticed the subtle shift as it rolled backwards no more than an inch. Liam stared at the image, transfixed, waiting for something else to catch his attention. Movement; more pronounced this time, a sliver of hardened paint rising as the weight of the wheelchair pressed upon it. He saw no shadows upon the emerald walls, nothing more floating through the corridor, and yet the wheels turned further as the wheelchair backed slowly into the bedroom’s darkness. When it disappeared totally from view, Liam exhaled a breath he had no idea he’d been holding.

  Licking his lips, he focused on the screen as his heart hammered out a surge of adrenaline. This footage would become famous, he could become famous; this documentary would be watched the world over, make Codie a lot of money, and that delighted him. Codie would be so pleased with this, it’d set their movie apart from anything else that had ever been screened.

  How long would it be until the camera tipped over? He figured it couldn’t be too long now, not so much time had elapsed between the camera falling and the wheelchair disappearing. The hallway remained static, its stillness beginning to make him uncertain whether the camera played the film at all. He was about to reach out and try the pause button when the camera flipped onto its side. Its abrupt collapse made him flinch, and a low gasp escaped him. He paused the recording, wound it back, and played it again.

  He looked at every visible surface, his gaze sweeping over the walls, along the floor, focusing on the black doorway where the wheelchair had disappeared only a moment previous. The camera tipped onto its side, the image on the screen shaking with the impact. Had there been something else there, just a fraction of a second before the camera tipped? Winding the footage back and watching a third time, he utilized the controls to slow the image playback. The dots were gone; no spirits playing in the darkness, as though the ghosts of long-dead children had sensed something more malevolent invading their ward. The storm had gripped the island all evening and into the night, rainclouds so thick no amount of moonlight filtered through—and yet the shadow climbing over the wall and sweeping across the floor towards the camera was unmistakable. It flowed, as if made of viscous liquid, identifiable at this slowed speed, nothing more than a blur at the recording’s regular pace. Although the silhouette contained no features, and while the image played before him slowly, Liam sensed the entity’s malice. The shadow pulsed over the floor to the camera and sent it toppling.

  He released another heavy breath, excitement charging through his veins, his delight nearly uncontrollable.

  Stopping the recording, he made sure it would be stored and not overwritten. Something as monumental as this needed to be saved, backed up as soon as possible. If only he could get a signal or a 4G connection on the damned island he’d email it to himself before sunrise.

  He couldn’t wait to show Codie.

  He couldn’t wait to shove this proof down Alex’s throat to shut up his disapproving and childish comments.

  Somewhere in the darkness behind him, a footstep crunched through the debris.

  He almost turned to look, resisted the temptation. He’d done it before, on previous investigations—having heard a noise, he’d turned to check, to see if a spirit lurked in the darkness, only to have his movement make the ghost wary and unwilling to stimulate any contact. He held his breath, releasing it slowly as he closed his eyes to the darkness and listened for the approach of one of this hall’s eternal victims.

  The air around him chilled, a cold sliding over his skin and prickling the hairs on his arms. Light flickered beyond his closed eyes as another bolt of lightning fractured heavy thunderheads. The heavens grumbled with electrical after-charge, the sound almost masking the crunch of another footfall.

  Maybe the girl from the chapel had found him: had made her way from her devastated sanctuary below and sought out his living essence in this corridor. She needed him for something, perhaps to give her the peace she craved in order for her to move on. But how could he tell her that this place was hers now for eternity—that the horrors of her death were the anchor that secured her here, an anchor too heavy and traumatic to shift? The chill rippled under his clothes, constricting around his body until even his scrotum tightened with cold. Br
eathing through his nose to control his excitement, Liam inhaled a mixture of air freshened by the storm and the odour of freshly turned earth. He relaxed his closed eyes, but did not open them, not even when another surge of electricity outside brightened the corridor around him.

  Instead, Liam smiled, and waited for her to lay a hand on his shoulder once more.

  Muffled, almost too soft beneath the rumbling wave of thunder, he thought he heard one word—leave.

  Cold hands clamped tight over his mouth, and a strong force pulled Liam backwards into darkness.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The hand on his shoulder jolted him awake. A heavy sludge of tiredness wallowed in his brain, the surrounding darkness disorientating. At first his mind told him that he lay in bed, although the mattress felt wrong beneath him: hard and cold, its surface uneven.

  “Codie?”

  His name dispersed some of the confusion, and he glanced up at the outline of several tall windows set high in the wall. The sky outside was painted the colour of tar as a churning mass of clouds boiled above the building. The asylum; we’re sleeping in the asylum.

  “Codie? Wake up, man.”

  Pushing himself up onto one elbow, Codie ran a hand over his face to try and drag away the fog of sleep. Kristen lay beside him, sleeping bag pulled up to her chin, mouth slightly open, her breath laden with sleep. Across the expansive room, Alex lay sprawled on one the benches, almost indistinguishable in the dark. Codie glanced up to the man standing over him, shadows concealing his face despite the ashen light from a small torch. Purple tiredness ringed his eyes but they held a heavy stare of concern. In his right hand, Julian held a dusty camcorder.

  Codie glanced from the camera back to his friend. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “I’m exhausted, but fine.” Julian glanced away, to his right.

  Codie followed his gaze to the crumbled mess of Liam’s sleeping bag.

  “Liam woke me up at God knows what time,” Julian continued, “said he was going upstairs to check on the static camera. You know what he’s like, kind of lets his excitement get the better of him.”

  Dragging the lip of his sleeping bag clear of his legs, Codie ignored the chilled air as he hauled his fatigued body to his feet. Sleeping on the hard floor, even using a thin blow-up mattress, had left his joints aching and muscles sore. Reaching out, he took the camcorder from Julian’s hand.

  “Where is he?”

  Julian shrugged. “I have no idea, man. He woke me up earlier and said he was going to the second floor, but I went back to sleep. I woke up later and went upstairs and found the camera lying on the floor.”

  “You search anywhere else for him: up to the theatre, maybe?”

  “You fucking kidding me? This place gives me the shits; I’m not wandering around here on my own.”

  Codie glanced down at Kristen, still locked in the grip of sleep. He didn’t want to wake her with talk of a missing friend. If indeed he was missing; knowing Liam, he’d wandered off into some darkened room and lost all track of time. Stepping away from his sleeping bag he grabbed Julian’s elbow and pulled him to the base of the grand staircase. Cracks meandered over the camera’s LCD, and in Julian’s torch light he noticed damage to the camcorder’s body. Liam wouldn’t have left the camera lying broken on the floor without good reason.

  “Okay,” Codie said, “this is what I think we should do. Get the others up and tell them Liam has wandered off. If he doesn’t show up soon we’ll split up and look for him.”

  Julian stared through the darkness at him and Codie waited a few seconds in silence before he said, “What?”

  “That’s not all,” Julian said and held something else out into the light.

  Codie glanced down at it, recognizing Liam’s shoe in an instant despite the dirt covering its body. A twist of nervous fear coiled deep inside him, churning nausea in his gullet. Liam might have left a broken camcorder lying in a hallway, but he wouldn’t go walking around wearing only one shoe.

  He took it from Julian. “Shit.”

  “Shit’s right.” Julian motioned with his torch towards the camera. “And that’s been purposely broken; that’s not a good sign.”

  “You’re right, let’s wake Kristen and Alex and then make a plan to search for him right away.”

  Julian glanced towards the far wall. “Don’t tell me, I got Alex.”

  “I knew you’d understand,” Codie said.

  He wasn’t about to send Kristen off with one of the others and he didn’t want to wander around here without her. She wouldn’t want to be without him. Besides, he could protect her if she was with him, and he’d feel better knowing her whereabouts.

  Codie lifted the items between them. “I’ll put this away for now.”

  Julian nodded, and stepped towards his gear. Turning from the staircase, Codie knelt at his rucksack and pushed the camcorder into its depths. With no electricity in the building and the storm hanging over the island, night seemed thicker than usual. He took his phone from his pocket and checked the time. Almost four a.m.—they’d barely gotten two hours’ rest. Lightning erupted somewhere overhead and the foyer blossomed with strobes of brilliant white. After only a few seconds, thunder rumbled deep and resonant. He hoped the storm would blow itself out before dawn.

  Reaching out gently, Codie laid a hand on Kristen’s shoulder.

  ~~

  Ten minutes later she stood beside him, close enough that her shoulder touched his. Her fingers linked into his hand, her skin dried from the room’s cold air. His probably felt the same. She glanced to the hallway leading past the toilets towards the asylum’s northern wing; the fourth time he’d notice her look that direction. He turned and peered down the corridor, seeing nothing but the building’s decaying remains shrouded in a blanket of darkness.

  Leaning close to her ear he asked, “Are you okay?”

  She gave a subtle nod, but remained silent.

  Alex stood close by, yawning heavily, his eyes darkened by lack of sleep. The first thing he’d muttered upon waking was how much his back hurt, how uncomfortable the treads on the bench seat had made him. He stretched his arms above his head, trying to work out the stiffness. Julian had gotten changed since he’d woken, his clothes thicker to combat the storm’s cooling air. He’d not done anything with his hair though, the mop upon his head tangled and coated in the dust he’d slept in. Codie expected they’d all want to sleep throughout Monday after their return tomorrow.

  Already looking forward to the warmth and comfort of his bed, he felt like another full day in this place was a long time. He only hoped O’Connell would show up as he’d promised. Codie glanced up to the lobby’s high windows again, the clouds as one with night. The storm pushed wind through the building’s many cracks, adding a chilling breeze to the room’s already cold air. When he usually smelled the effects of a storm, the air often seemed fresher, the atmosphere cleansed by rain, but in here, a thicker odour of decay wafted from the abandoned corridors. It seemed every gust of wind collected the souls of this asylum’s countless victims and stirred them into a heady aroma. He’d expected to smell rotten timber and decayed leaves, but this stench was closer to the world of the dead than he’d like to admit.

  He’d never been much of a believer in ghosts until Liam had played him recordings of his earlier investigations. Codie thought he knew all there was to know about his best friend, but it’d surprised him to learn of Liam’s addiction to ghost hunting. Apparently all those weekend breaks he’d thought his buddy had taken with his family, he’d really been to overnight ghost hunts with his father. He’d asked Liam why he hadn’t said where he’d gone, and been told he didn’t want to have his ghost hunting hobby laughed at. Codie had done no such thing, had instead been enthralled by it and more than a little unnerved by the recordings of voices in the dark. Making movies had always been Codie’s passion, but he’d been the opposite of Liam and told everyone he’d known. When they left school, he decided to start his own
independent company. Focusing on documentaries at first, a ghost hunt had seemed the obvious choice for his first project.

  Only now he wished Liam hadn’t come along.

  Something deep in his gut told Codie that his buddy wasn’t just exploring corners of this building while the rest of them slept. He wasn’t irresponsible, wouldn’t have been gone this long without letting someone know about it—wouldn’t have gone anywhere with only one shoe. Liam was hurt, Codie felt sure of it, and guilt weighed upon him.

  “So,” Alex said through a yawn. “What’s the plan?”

  “I don’t think Liam intended on being away this long,” Codie said. “He went up to check on the second-floor camera while we were asleep, and he’s still not come back. This building is hazardous, others have died here because of the structure’s instability, and I have a feeling Liam might be hurt somewhere.”

  “He’s probably checking the other cameras,” Alex said.

  Codie glanced over at Julian, his face lit by the torch’s beam, and saw him give a subtle nod.

  “Julian found the camera upstairs and it’s been damaged,” Codie said. “I don’t think he is checking the other cameras.”

  “Shit,” Kristen whispered. “So you found the camera but not him?”

  “Yeah,” Julian said. “And a shoe.”

  “What, just one shoe?”

  “Yes,” Codie said, wishing Julian hadn’t mentioned the footwear. He didn’t want Kristen getting too freaked out with the situation. “And it’s definitely one of Liam’s, so I think something has happened to him.”

  “Wouldn’t he call out if something happened?” Alex offered.

  “Not if he’s unconscious. I think we should all head to the chapel first and check that camera, but we’ll take different routes, check out some areas we haven’t been yet in case he’s wandered in there, disorientated or something.”