Haunted: The isle of Mysteria has a secret, and Cameron Drake is about to find out how angry she really is

By A. M. Keen

Mysteria, a small fishing island located just off the coast of Oregon. Covered in dense forests, its isolation is exactly what award-winning author Cameron Drake is looking for. After an amicable divorce he moves to the island from England, in an attempt to reignite his writing career. However, Cameron’s arrival begins with a strange encounter on a deserted road, and leads to a series of hauntings that force him to question his sanity and investigate its history. As the community around him slowly vanishes, it appears Mysteria is not everything it seems. Aided by his loyal pet, Akando, an Alaskan malamute, Cameron descends into the strange world of the paranormal. Slowly, he begins to believe the hauntings are an attempt to warn of a fate that will befall the island and its remaining occupants. A quest of witchcraft, Ouija boards and contact with the dead awaits Cameron, but as he investigates deeper, the island’s secret becomes clear.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Acorn Books
• Release date: Mar 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781783336265

Book preview

Fitzgerald

One

Will Turley took to the helm of his 25’ Offshore and navigated a rare patch of sea fog descending across the ocean ahead. The small fishing boat sliced through the rough, rolling waves, their graying swells depicting the west coast season; cold, murky and with a shade of darkness that mirrored the approaching night fall. October was often known as the wet season to the local fishing town of Port Sandown, Oregon, and the prelude to the looming winter, the harshest and most inhospitable season that this small fishing community would have to endure. Fall had always been a time when optimism for the coming months was low, and present moods faded with the dark weather surrounding them.

The boat braved the freezing waters as it left the Port Sandown fishing port toward the small island of Mysteria visible from the harbor. This was his last job of the day, having agreed to transfer a passenger from the port on the mainland to the small harbor on the south-east coast of the island.

Cameron Drake stood rigid beside the sailor he’d hired to ferry him to the island of Mysteria where he’d brought a home-sight unseen-and hoped he wouldn’t disgrace himself by upchucking. Grasping the rails bolted to the side of the bulkhead he rolled with the waves, his knuckles white with the firmness of his grasp. The skipper of his ride bore a thick, turtle neck sweater and blue watch cap. His amused face looked like it hadn’t seen the best side of a razor for at least a week.

What takes a rich and famous writer from England to a little island off the coast of Oregon? he asked as the sea crashed around them, its spray lurching as high as the inverted windshield. Wipers removed the rogue droplets away that remained there.

Thought it was a good idea, at the time," he replied in a strong, English accent. Cameron hoped the overwhelming despair he felt at the rolling sea would be short lived. He closed his eyes, squeezed them tightly and puffed his cheeks.

Will laughed. Take it you haven’t travelled by sea much before?

Cameron kept his eyes closed and shook his head. Absolutely not, he began, struggling with his speech the way someone usually does before their gut gives in and lurches its contents out in a violent manner. The flight here was bad enough.

It doesn’t make sense for someone who can’t travel by sea to live on an island?

I thought that one trip was all I’d have to make, unless of course I need hospital treatment or something, but, I didn’t let that cloud my thinking when I decided to move here.

I have to ask, but it seems strange that someone from half way across the world should choose to move so far from his homeland, especially England?

Trust me sir, England wasn’t the place for me anymore. Where I lived, gangs of kids in hoodies terrorized the streets. I paid excessive amounts of tax to our government and never saw what it was being used for. It’s such an expensive place to live, and if you move out to the countryside, which, okay, isn’t that bad, you’re still paying excessive rates for the privilege of doing so.

I wouldn’t have thought that would affect a celebrity such as yourself?

I’m not a celebrity, Cameron began, I’m a writer. Just because I’ve appeared on a few shows to plug my book doesn’t mean I’m blessed to red carpet treatment and free meals whenever I hit the town.

But being a writer, I thought you’d be full of the old green by now? the fisherman enquired. I mean, I’ve heard of your books before, and we’re almost in the middle of nowhere out here.

Cameron took a deep breath as his stomach churned and somersaulted with the passing waves. It’s not easy, believe me. It took me years to build up a fan base. When I started out, the publisher published the book, I marketed it myself. No one these days is willing to give new authors a chance unless there’s money tattooed across the manuscript. There isn’t a huge amount of money involved in writing, unless of course you just happen to be Stephen King or J.K. Rowling. I had to knock out seven acclaimed books before I could afford to live here and write for a living. When books are guaranteed to fly from the shelves from the name of their authors, that’s where the money is, and that’s where I’m attempting to be. I’m getting there, but I’m nowhere near their league just yet. He stopped a moment to hold his breath. The queasy feeling rolling inside became stronger. After a few seconds the discomfort passed, allowing Cameron to sigh. When I decided to leave England, it was to get away from the rat-race. I wanted peace, so I could concentrate on writing that one great manuscript. My agent has been badgering me for about fifteen months now to create another bestseller, and I’m hoping this move will inspire me once more. Plus, I get to say I live on Mysteria Island, probably the greatest name ever for a place to live, he added with an optimistic voice.

The boat crested a sudden wave and dipped down, causing both men to grip on to something to keep their balance. Some boxes and a rucksack at the stern slid across the deck toward the bow. Spray launched over them and more salt water splattered the windshield. The Offshore leveled and the roaring engine pushed them once more across the murky waters.

Rogues, Will began as he adjusted and got the vessel back on course, there are a few of them out here from time to time. Cameron nodded in agreement. If he opened his mouth, he’d do more than produce a sentence. Cameron watched as Will brushed a hand across his emerging beard. From the looks of the skipper, that may have just been a narrow miss. So, what do you know about the island? Will’s voice emerged from above the engines. Forcing the sickly feeling back down inside, or at least putting it to rest for a moment, Cameron sighed. Not much, he began, looking out in to the fog they were heading to. My agent said it was a quiet little island where I could probably relax. I saw some pictures he sent and did a bit of reading on it. The house I’m moving to looks fantastic, and I just thought, what the hell?

Does he live on the island, your agent?

Ah, no. He lives back in Port Sandown. I guess he wants to keep an eye on me and make sure I write him another paycheck. What’s with the island, though? There was next to nothing on Google about it? Cameron instantly recognized the blank expression his transporter responded with. The internet, he then added.

Oh, Will began, returning his attention to the waves. ‘Isn’t nothing but tall tales from there, my friend. The islanders? They’re a tight community and friendly too. Not many of them, either. Way back when, there were stories of people vanishing on there, just, gone. One minute they was there, the next they wasn’t. Fishermen and fishing communities like us is a superstitious lot, you know, and afterwards people just moved on. They weren’t going to stay there with people vanishing left right and center. Cameron clasped the rail as the sickness emerged yet again. Say, are you okay, son? Will asked. It won’t be far now.

Tell me more about the island, Cameron groaned from his prepare-to-vomit-in-to-the-sea position. He was intent to concentrate on anything else except his sickness.

Not much else to tell. The population is very small out there. They have two docks, the one we’re heading to on the south-eastern side of the island, and one up on the north-western. The docks back at Port Sandown are too tight for the big fishing vessels to maneuver, so they dock on Mysteria with their loads. They have a market on there, and the buyers from the mainland arrange for their goods to be distributed from there and back across to the west coast. Mysteria can be a very busy dock at times, sir. It’s the fishermen that keep the few businesses on the island alive. There are groceries and supplies, a few bedrooms for rent, even a damn book store, he said with a smile. I don’t often travel there these days, but when I have, I liked what I saw. It’s a nice island. You get most of the islanders in Port Sandown, taking major supplies back and things like that. Lots and lots of old stories there, too. I’m sure you’ll find your inspiration out there.

About the disappearances? Cameron asked.

Yeah, just old stories, you know, legends and lore, that kind of thing, Will coughed twice, covering his mouth with a clenched fist. Here we are.

The Offshore approached a wooden dock reaching out from the falling fog towards them. Cameron heard the crash of waves upon the pebbled coast and sighed with relief.

Are you going to be okay, you know, returning to the mainland in this fog? he asked, gaining some composure over his sickness. He was winning in the battle with his body.

Will smiled. Don’t worry, friend, I can turn the navigation system on, he replied, tapping a small box to his right. Besides, I’m just dropping you off. I should be able to outrun the fog before it catches me.

The fishing boat pulled up close to the dock. Cameron took his blue rucksack that had wandered across the deck when the ocean had dropped out from beneath them. Will moored the boat quickly and jumped across to the wooden platform. With the engines switched off, Cameron’s ears rung with the welcome tranquility of the crashing waves. He’d also kept his lunch where it had meant to be, and felt proud that his dignity had remained intact, even if the only audience was an old fisherman he was unlikely to see again.

Well, thank you for bringing me here. Cameron offered a hand to his first acquaintance.

Will grasped it firm and shook it well. There’ll be no more boats out this way while the fog is down, the skipper replied, looking up in to the patches of cloud falling from the sky, but take this, it’s my numbers, home and cell. If you need any transport, call me. The ferry from the mainland runs here twice a day, morning and evening. You need a ride at any other time, you let me know. As the fisherman released his grip Cameron found a piece of paper within his palm. You got transport now your here?

Yeah, I have a Liberty parked up at the end of the dock, Cameron said, reaching inside his pocket to produce a set of keys.

And I was almost buying your story about an author on a budget, Will chuckled.

Cameron returned it. It’s not a new one, believe me.

Ah-huh. You ever need to reach the mainland, and if it’s possible, I’ll come get you.

Thank you.

Will saluted as he returned to the Offshore, removing the mooring and jumping down a foot or two on to the bobbing deck. After the engine started with a thunderous roar, Cameron turned towards the deck and began his journey. A gravel area where a small harbor hut resided appeared in the poor light first. A light rested above the doorway that faced out across the deck. Any harbor master working this end of the island surely must be on a part time basis, if at all. Only one other powered boat, which just happened to be an Offshore, almost identical to the one he’d arrived on, and a handful of small rowing boats secured safely within the dock.

The fog was now descending on the island, and the ocean had fast become hidden behind the thick element. He heard Will’s boat thundering away in the distance, wondering if the seasoned fisherman had in fact turned his navigation system on after all.

Cameron crossed the border to Mysteria. The sound of his walking boots changed from the dull thud of wooden planks to the loud crunch of gravel and stone. From the fog he noticed a stationary vehicle emerge in to view. The Liberty was exactly where his agent had said he had left it. It was silver, and even in the poor light he could see it looked immaculate. It seemed as though the weather had looked on in awe and passed the vehicle by, so as not to contaminate its polished surface.

Cameron smiled to himself. The sickness he’d suffered previously now all but gone. He loved four by fours. His first had been a Suzuki Jimny back in the UK, and when the recession hit not long after, he’d had to sell it. Running a jeep on a budget was impossible back home in England. This was one of the things he remembered when deciding to make the move to Oregon.

To Mysteria Island. Mysteria Island...Cameron smiled once more. I can feel the inspiration already, he said to himself.

Two

The interior of the Liberty was unbelievable. Full leather. Air conditioning. Cameron had thought about just sitting there and enjoying the car but was too excited about seeing his new home, a four bedroomed, isolated house within the woods of the island. He was feeling like a kid at Christmas. The smile would have to be surgically removed from his face. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’ smiled and actually meant it.

After studying the map his agent had left on the passenger seat in which a huge red circle marked his current position, Cameron turned the engine on, then the headlights, and dropping the transmission in to gear set out to explore this new island he would call home. He’d docked upon the eastern side, just as Will told him, and according to the map Cameron could find his new home on the outskirts of the small town and harbor on the north-west coast. As was the way with small places like this, only a handful of roads connect the landmarks, and if he turned left, all roads led to where he was heading. They all led home. Roaring the Liberty on to the tarmac Cameron headed south along the straightest and quickest road toward the harbor.

The fog must have sent the locals inside, he thought to himself as he drove cautiously through the element. There wasn’t anything out here that signaled life, except the forest which engulfed the island drastically. There were pockets of civilization scattered across the island according to the map, but none in his area. There was nothing but trees, of which species he didn’t know, reaching in to the low lying fog above. It was late afternoon, and the light had dwindled down to the dull, overcast grey that accompanied the element, no matter who was seeing it or what part of the world it descended to.

Cameron had long since left the dock’s and guessed he was part of the way to the new house. Mysteria Island, he began, thinking aloud, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Mysteria Island... The Liberty passed deeper in to the forest. A quiet place. A very quiet place. What would happen here? Cameron sighed, puffing his breath out in to bursts. A man, no, a woman. A woman of the sea. No, not the sea, the trees.

He turned the windscreen wipers and removed the moister that was settling on the glass in front of him. The trees? No. Trees? Forests? Sounds like we should be in Averon. That thing has been done to hell already. The sea? What like a mermaid or something?

The Liberty approached a long bend running to the right. Could be? It’s a fishing island, after all. Will said fishermen were superstitious. No. It’s called Mysteria Island. Nothing is mysterious about mermaids. How about a detective? What about-

A woman appeared in the headlights and screamed. Her hands flew out toward him as she lurched out to protect herself.

JESU-! Cameron smashed the brakes and swerved to the left, noticing the woman jump to avoid collision. The screeching vehicle failed to stop and crashed straight in to her. Cameron screamed. She vanished from his vision. The Liberty swerved as he lost control and veered on to the verge, coming to an immediate standstill. Cameron grasped the wheel as tightly as he had the rail back on the Offshore.

He breathed harshly. Oh my God, he whispered as realization of what had just happened set in.

With trembling hands he reached down and released his seat belt from its buckle. Thrusting the door open he jumped out in to the cold air and ran around to the front of the car. The engine still purred to itself as it rested motionlessly in the forest. Cameron looked in to the tree line to search for the injured woman. She had to be injured, he was travelling at a safe speed, but it was fast enough to injure her, and probably seriously. There was nobody on the roadside, and the bushes and foliage between the trees showed no sign of any disturbance.

Shit! he whispered and ran to the back of the car. He hoped his agent had left an emergency kit in the trunk. He yanked the door and opened it quickly. A small, black bag rested in front of him. Cameron quickly emptied the bag as he poured its contents in to the boot. He saw batteries, a poncho, various leads, a first aid kit and, there, a flashlight. He snatched it by the handle and clicked the button on. A bright beam of light exploded in to his eyes, temporarily throwing him back and forcing him to squint.

Damn it, he said, and with huge, multicolored blotches within his sight looked for and took the first aid kit.

Cameron ran back to the bonnet of the car and jumped the bushes to the trees. His heart pounded with fear and anxiousness. The body wasn’t beside the road. He must have launched her deep in to the forest he thought fearfully. Slipping on the damp bracken he moved in to the trees, shining the torch in all directions to look for her. He ran further in before stopping in a small opening. His breath panted rapidly and expelled into the cold air, fogging his vision as well as the light burns from the flashlight he’d almost blinded himself with.

Cameron spun in a circle looking for a body, a body he most certainly must