Orcus Island: Don't be Trapped by the Memory

By A.D Gibson

Five young adults reunite in a whirlwind of long-lost friendship and a haphazard mission to travel the world in secret.

Will clinging to a years-old promise be enough for them as they are faced with the peculiar terrors presented by Orcus Island, or will they all fall apart into the memories of their pasts?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Feb 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9781035817566

A.D Gibson

A.D Gibson is a writer from Northern Ireland. Before she started writing fantasy fiction, she completed a Bachelor of Business Administration at the University of Strathclyde in Glasgow. She now spends her time living and working in her native city of Belfast.

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About the Author

A.D Gibson is a writer from Northern Ireland. Before she started writing fantasy fiction, she completed a Bachelor of Business Administration at the University of Strathclyde in Glasgow. She now spends her time living and working in her native city of Belfast.

Dedication

To my Granda Kenny and my Granny Hazel, for always

feeding my imagination.

Also dedicated to my late Granny Florence, who never stopped

believing in me.

Copyright Information ©

A.D Gibson 2024

The right of A.D Gibson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781035817559 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035817566 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

Thank you to Austin Macauley Publishers for assisting me in all aspects of this book reaching publication.

Prologue

Troubled children often find comfort in the most curious of places, with often unexplainable company.

The living room that they sat in was once owned by Richie Spears. He had been a heavy smoker, resulting in the ceiling being stained a dark yellow and the furniture forever holding the stink of tobacco. He had rarely cleaned his home, allowing the dust and grime to build up to a concoction of mould and ground-in dirt, with stacks and stacks of daily newspapers scattered around the small bungalow.

Richie Spears died of a heart attack at 65 years old in his own backyard while burning the weeds from the grass. He was not found for three days. He had left his home to his only son when he died. The son, uninterested in dealing with his late father, left the house to rot. This resulted in the decrepit home being taken over almost daily with a small gang of friends, children with nowhere better to hang out.

Those children sat in that very same house years later, to discuss a childhood promise that had haunted them ever since.

You want a draw? Ryan held the sickly-sweet smoke to Summer’s face.

No, not really. Summer’s face twisted in disgust and gently pushed his arm away, adjusting herself and moving further away from him on the battered couch.

Ryan laughed to himself, leaning back and taking a long draw, and sighed in contentment.

Ivy gave him a look as she paced the length of the small living room.

The trio were waiting.

Have you guys never heard of a fucking coffee store? Summer piped up, picking a stray blonde hair from her sweater and wiping dust from her jeans.

You used to love it here, Ivy said, feeling aware of a large spider in the corner of the room.

I wasn’t wearing designer jeans when I was eleven, this place makes me feel a bit sick now, she replied.

Just relax, maybe we’re here so we don’t have to be seen with you. Ryan smirked at her and flicked ash onto the coffee table, still standing after all the years. There was a huge crack in the centre where Ryan had once fallen through it trying to swing from the ceiling fan.

Shut up. Summer didn’t take her eyes from Ivy, who couldn’t stop twisting and pulling at her hair.

I think they’ll be here soon, Ivy mumbled. They texted me fifteen minutes ago saying they were on their way.

Ivy, if they aren’t going to turn up, I’m leaving. I feel so stupid that we’re even here right now; anybody could turn up, Summer said.

Summer, stop talking. Ivy bit her lip and looked out the ripped curtains into the blinding sunlight. The light bounced off the grey concrete of the driveway just right, obstructing her view of the quiet street outside.

Why should I? It’s obvious I was the only one dumb enough to entertain this, they’re probably laughing at me right now, Summer pouted.

Summer grabbed her bag from Ryan who had been rummaging through it and stood up, crossing her arms and staring at Ivy with pursed lips.

Oh, please, don’t go, Ryan said with a roll of his eyes.

Shh! Ivy snapped with a wave of her hand. They’re here.

Finally! Summer cried in exasperation.

They stayed silent as they heard the busted front door swing open. A few seconds later, Sawyer sheepishly entered the living room with an excitable Jaxon on his heels.

I, ah, got a lift with Jaxon. Sorry we’re late, Sawyer mumbled and walked over to the fireplace to immediately fidget with the ornaments.

You got a lift with Jaxon? Summer asked incredulously.

Well, he lives near me and has a car, Summer, not everyone gets a car for their sixteenth birthday. He chuckled.

Shame, she responded.

Nice setting, Jaxon announced to the room. Old school, I like it. Jaxon smiled; his tall form almost skimming the doorframe.

Ivy turned to address all of them. So, we all made a deal years ago.

Emphasis on the years part, Ryan added but Ivy ignored him.

…and the fact you all turned up here today makes me think we all want to keep it. Ivy absentmindedly tapped her leg as she spoke. I know we haven’t all stayed as close as we used to be, but we’re going to have to buy this fucking boat soon if this is gonna happen, so…who’s in?

You sure everyone is willing to play nice? Sawyer gestured to Summer.

I’m not going if you guys are going to be bitchy. Summer looked down at her hands. But one thing about me is that I always keep a promise, Summer replied with a tight lip.

Inspirational, Ryan commented with an eye roll.

We tell the parents we’re going away for the weekend— Ivy began.

Then we call them from Brazil and give them heart attacks, Ryan concluded.

You know there is no way they’d let us all go. This way guarantees we’re all in. What would be the point otherwise? Sawyer added.

Well, my family won’t give a shit. I don’t even intend on coming back. Ryan grinned sarcastically.

My parents would go nuts if I told them, Summer said, biting her lip.

I have the money. Would be a waste not to go. Jaxon smiled.

Does this mean we’re going…? Ivy asked, looking up at the spider spinning its intricate web. I don’t want to assume anything yet.

A break would be nice, Sawyer added. Things are a little repetitive these days.

There was a tense silence for a few seconds before Jaxon made their decision for them.

Let’s go buy a boat! Jaxon hollered enthusiastically, giving Ivy a mock punch on the arm.

Can’t we just rent one? Sawyer asked.

Let me get Dad on the phone. I sometimes use his boat with my friends, he’ll not think anything of it if I ask to borrow it for a few days, Summer muttered.

Fuck it. Ryan laughed loudly. Can anyone sail? Summer?

No, we normally have staff… she replied.

I can, don’t worry, Jaxon reassured them. My dad put me through for my licence.

They all looked at each other before Ryan stood and swayed slightly. Well?

Ryan gestured in mock grandeur and lit a cigarette as he made his way out of the room.

Let’s go travel the world. Summer forced a smile and filed out of the room with Ivy, Jaxon and Sawyer close behind. Not a dumb idea at all.

What are we going to do about places to stay? Sawyer whispered to Ivy as they left the room.

I booked some for Brazil just in case…but nowhere else.

I love how organised we are, Sawyer said.

We can figure it out, we’ll be fine.

We’re going off a seven-year-old promise made by a bunch of kids here. Sawyer shifted from foot to foot. We barely even like each other.

It’s all any of us have got left, she whispered. Ivy looked up at her old friend sadly, and they followed the others to their cars.

The beaming sun slipped behind the cover of a dark, swollen cloud and the dingy living room that had illuminated the five teenagers fell into dimness.

Chapter One

‘TEENAGE SATANIC CULT EAT EACH OTHER ALIVE ON DESERTED ISLAND’.

I had read the headline over and over again. The article told of how a young adult had been rescued from an undiscovered island after weeks of searching for five teenagers that had disappeared; eventually having been tracked down through a weak phone signal.

My blood felt like ice as I read on, the teenagers labelled as outcast runaways that travelled there to perform satanic rituals.

They couldn’t give away the exact location, perhaps they didn’t even know, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I had been closer to these people than I knew.

I had seen that island before; mere days before reading the article, I had flown over it on a private plane journey which I piloted. My route matched the rough location they provided; I was completely sure there had never been an island there before that day. Something inside me had disregarded it at the time, but what I saw that day made me discredit the entire article.

The days after my sighting, I had slept more than usual, a sick feeling inside of me that I couldn’t explain.

Although, the press gushed of how uninteresting and remote the previously undiscovered island was, I had of course seen it before myself. It was far from uninteresting. Apart from the short rescue mission and attempted search, the island had disappeared and could not be found again. This revelation was blamed on electrical currents around the island interfering with GPS, with teams working daily in order to find it again.

The island came out of nowhere, I had flown the exact route hundreds of times and I assure you it was not there before.

I almost let myself believe that I had fallen asleep when I saw it, that I must have been dreaming. I made a lazy note of the coordinates at the time, looking down at it with mild interest.

I went back a few weeks after the story broke out of curiosity. I checked the coordinates again and again, but the island wasn’t there.

I had been a private pilot for a prestigious doctor named Daniel McCormack-Brumley for many years before dedicating my life to the castaways and what happened to them. Daniel wasn’t too understanding, simply believing the lies about the castaways he had heard about in the newspapers.

Thinking back, I really have no clue why I would have ignored such a blatant cry for help, it was as though my mind had been clouded and the concern sieved away until I saw that headline. I had seen a yellow tarp, ‘SOS’ faintly blazoned across it. The kicker was the perfectly intact boat that had been near the shore.

The public accepted this story at face value; I couldn’t even find a conspiracy theorist tweeting about it, nobody doubted it. Something wasn’t right and I knew that somehow, I was meant to see that island that day. I knew I had to get in a room with that survivor.

Chapter Two

The boat had room for them all to sleep, once used by Summer’s whole family for trips out in the bay and weekend fishing trips.

They bought their supplies in the following days after making their decision, packing enough food to last them the journey to Brazil.

Watch your step, wouldn’t want to fall off and drown, Summer mumbled at Ivy as they stepped onto the warm deck.

I’ll be careful, Ivy answered in a bored tone.

It had been almost a thrill to them to step onto the boat with people they hadn’t been friendly with in years, reverting back almost easily into old routines, back to a time when they were very close and not incredibly wary of one another.

There was a tense atmosphere when the boat rattled and sped away from the dock at last, Ivy shot a glance at Ryan but he didn’t look back at her.

Passing around a few beers, Ivy realised that Ryan wasn’t being as well behaved as he promised he’d be before they set out of her house to catch the boat.

However, Ryan was so out of his mind on drugs that he couldn’t even acknowledge his girlfriend’s worries or even remember he’d made such a promise.

I told you I wasn’t going to put up with this stuff anymore, Ryan. Especially on this trip. Ivy tried to keep her voice down but knew everyone could hear.

Ryan just giggled in response and rolled over on the deck, avoiding looking at her while she kept pleading he sit back up and join the others.

Lighten up, Ivy, you’re being so…loud. Ryan waved her away.

Classy behaviour, Summer said, finishing the remainder of her beer and throwing it overboard.

Do you ever mind your own business, Summer? Summer looked hurt; her petite face distorted in shock.

Sometimes, she bit back. Just never had any junkies on my boat before.

He’s not a junkie, actually. Ivy went to Sawyer and put a hand on his back, it had only been an hour or so since they set out and he had taken a turn of seasickness already.

Sawyer stood from leaning over the side of the boat. We’re supposed to be having fun here, can we not bite each other’s heads off.

Yeah, time of my life. Ivy rolled her eyes.

Mature. I wish I hadn’t come now, Summer replied.

You really think I want to spend the next few months watching your judgemental nose turn up at every move I make?

It’s not you that I’m judging, Summer answered.

Stop being dicks! Sawyer yelled before another wave of nausea preoccupied him. I’ve actually really been looking forward to this.

They both looked down at their feet, falling into uncomfortable silence.

Thank you. Sawyer took a deep steadying breath before turning to face the girls once more. I don’t need this shit right now.

I didn’t know you got seasick, Ivy commented.

Why do you think I dodged your calls for three days before you asked me to do this?

I thought it was on account of the fact we’d not talked in two years to be completely honest.

Hmm. Sawyer swallowed hard. I guess it was a mix of the two. Sorry.

Don’t worry about it.

I knew you get seasick, Summer piped up. Remember we went fishing with my dad when we had just started middle school, you threw up all over his new gear? And yourself.

Sawyer laughed. Oh yeah, damn. I do remember that. He’s hated me ever since I think?

Yeah, he has, Summer replied sheepishly.

There were a few moments of awkward silence before any of them felt comfortable enough to resume the conversation again, although the undertones of uneasiness remained. Summer picked at her nails and started to pace the length of the deck, receiving grim looks from Ivy for doing so.

Only perk of this hell is that I get out of that house, Ivy mumbled.

Do you think we should have told our parents about this? I mean, I’m all for us growing up and being independent but I’m starting to feel a little weird— Summer was cut off.

"Summer! You know you’d never have been allowed to go; Sawyer definitely wouldn’t have. Time to grow up," Ivy said.

What if we haven’t? Summer replied.

Haven’t what? Ivy asked.

Grown up, Summer replied.

What do you mean? I know I have, Ivy said.

Summer looked as though she was on the verge of tears. I didn’t exactly ask to have the family that I do. Maybe you’re jealous.

Me? Jealous of you? I’d rather have a messed-up life than be a spoiled kid.

Would you leave her alone, Ivy? Sawyer yelled with exasperation. This trip is going to be fucking endless if you two don’t stop this.

Sorry. I’m stuck babysitting this waste of space. Ivy kicked Ryan lightly on the back to emphasise her point, getting a grunt and groan in return.

You don’t have to take it out on me, I haven’t even done anything, Summer snapped at Ivy.

Ok. Yes, Summer, I’m sorry. Ivy gritted her teeth. He just promised he wouldn’t do this.

Apology accepted. Summer smirked at her.

Ivy growled and covered her face with her hands, restraining herself from something she would probably regret in the end.

This will all go more smoothly if we all just get along, Sawyer said, he had completely emerged from the side of the boat, sinking down to lounge on the deck, breathing heavily.

Ivy bit her tongue.

Wonder how Jaxon’s getting on, Sawyer mused, adjusting his glasses.

Well, we’re moving. That’s a good sign to me, Ivy replied.

We should all chill for a while, maybe start our diaries, Sawyer muttered hopefully.

I read this article a few weeks ago about how beneficial it can actually be to keep a record of day-to-day stuff, Ivy replied. That’s kinda why I suggested the diaries, to keep us from killing each other.

Well, that seems a little far-fetched. I wouldn’t go as far as kill, maybe just seriously injure, Sawyer answered, winking at her.

Of course, I’m not trying to make it all serious, it’s just it makes me feel a bit better about what we’re doing if something so small can be positive, Ivy replied.

I think this is the right thing to do, Ivy, if that’s what you’re worried about. Sawyer bit his lip and continued, I mean there was always the possibility that if we told our parents’ then one or two of us couldn’t go and that would just feel wrong. Sawyer smiled softly before making a face of pain and clutching his stomach.

Sorry to break up the deep conversation but I’m trying to get it off my mind and try to move on from the fact that my mother has probably already started a search party, so shall we…? Summer cut in with bulging eyes, cutting their discussion short.

Sawyer and Ivy laughed nervously and nodded at her. Ivy fussed at a bracelet on her wrist; suddenly she was very perplexed by the multi-coloured strands and picked at them.

Summer took her phone from her bag and began tapping away on it. Guys, how far have we actually gone so far?

Ivy thought. We spent quite a bit of time putting all our stuff in the bedroom thing and sorting out all the food…I don’t know, like ten miles I suppose.

Why? Sawyer added.

My phone has lost all signal. Summer sighed and put it away again.

Mine too, Ivy added.

It’ll probably come back when we get somewhere, Summer said.

They went back to their diaries.

I can barely think of where to start… Sawyer began, derailing Ivy’s train of thought. Maybe at the boat? Prom maybe? We all talked then and had a pretty good night.

I’ve already started! Summer chimed happily, reaching into her pink handbag and producing a little journal with ‘Summer’ scrawled onto the front in purple gel pen.

Of course she has, Ivy said with a roll of her eyes.

Summer stuck her tongue out at Ivy, opened the little book and started to write.

Sawyer produced his plain navy journal from his rucksack and began writing on the first page. Ivy followed his lead and began to write in her red journal that she’d covered with little coffee loyalty stickers from her job.

Mere minutes passed when Ivy had begun to lose interest.

I wonder what the waster has written in his journal. She crawled quickly over to Ryan, abandoning her own diary in the process. Ryan was pretty much out of it at that moment, barely able to protest as Ivy reached into his battered, dirty rucksack containing an absolute mass of random objects that she dug through carefully, trying not to disturb his privacy too much.

Her nosiness got the better of her and she couldn’t help inspecting some things such as the scattering of small, round pills and strange unmarked black box.

Has he even got one with him? Summer asked, pen still firmly on paper writing in her girly handwriting.

Yes, of course he has one, we all agreed to get one, Ivy remarked while rummaging in the greasy rucksack, secretly worried.

If he hasn’t got one, Summer began, sticking her hand into her own handbag, I have another one. She produced a grotesque looking hot pink notebook covered in stars and hearts and little, tiny flowers. It’s scented, she added with a smirk.

What does it smell of? Sawyer asked half-heartedly, still giving the writing a go but not really interested in the girls’ conversation at all. He pushed back his dark spiky hair and adjusted his glasses, giving the girls a look of pure annoyance.

Oh, just strawberry and—

—Sweat? Ivy added quickly.

No. Jasmine, Summer replied bitterly, flicking her hair and giving Ivy a hard stare.

Oh, so close. Ivy smiled at her brightly.

It’s really not my business, Sawyer said bitterly, taking off his glasses momentarily to rub his eyes. But turn this boat around if you guys are gonna fight the whole time.

Jesus Christ, we’re not serious, Sawyer.

I’ve found it! Ivy cried, producing a black journal with coffee stains scattered on the tattered cover.

Sawyer suddenly looked more interested. Wow, I didn’t honestly think he had it in him. Would it be really wrong to read it?

Yes, very wrong, Summer replied.

After a pause and a look shared between all of them, Ivy held open the first page. We are going to read it though, right? In case he’s planning to murder us all?

Obviously, Summer said, scooting closer to Ivy and gently pushing Ryan away from her.

What they would see surprised them, for as I have found out, Ryan was fairly popular in school for all the demented and wrong reasons that teenagers are usually popular among their peers. Ryan was popular because not only did he have a terrible reputation due to his broken home, not really caring about schoolwork and hardly turning up to class, but mostly because he supplied the entire school with enough narcotics to make any party or late-night experiment a lot more interesting.

However, the jumbled words of wisdom only Ryan would have conjured did not jump out at them as they flicked open the diary, instead they were greeted by drawings.

There was a small message written in what looked like red sharpie on the inside cover of the tattered book.

To my Ivy, Sawyer read aloud. How romantic, he added bitterly.

Next to the message, he had drawn a small ivy leaf in pencil.

What are all these drawings? Summer asked, trying to pry the diary out of Ivy’s hands in order to get a better look at the first drawing in the book.

Hey, hey, hey. He’s my boyfriend, let me look. They could be private.

Not much of a boyfriend. Privacy went out the window the second you jumped headfirst into his rucksack, she muttered, still trying to grab the diary.

He’s good to me, Ivy bit back, thrusting it away from her roughly.

Yeah, you’ve really got a keeper there, Summer said, pouting fiercely.

"Look, he’s