The Caretaker

By Douglas Kincaid

THE CARETAKER
New Wave Reading
Production Date 2019

THE CARETAKER

is a modified screenplay; created
by Douglas Kincaid. His unique style of
writing is new. It is designed specifically, to allow
his readers to enjoy a more personal relationship with
his characters. The author has named this,
"NEW WAVE READING." So come on in and
meet everybody, because your
journey begins now.

Sincerely,

Douglas Kincaid

 

Impeccably crafted, The Caretaker plunges readers into a tale shrouded with mystery complemented with a concoction of science fiction. The story begins with a startling discovery by real estate agent Mark Turner—six of their environmental research employees had been savagely murdered while working within the premises of the burial grounds, a property that he recently leased for the company. No one knows what exactly happened except that the ancient grounds are laden with stories and myths of spirits and paranormal activity.

Apart from Mark Turner, readers shall be introduced to several characters that seem to leap out of the book’s pages- literally and figuratively speaking.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 1, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465392909

Douglas Kincaid

Douglas Kincaid brings mystery thriller and science fiction together to give way to an oddly enthralling masterpiece! Barnstown is like every other town one may come across to, except that there’s something eerily special about it. It could be the redwoods situated near the town’s edge or the way most of the stores are owned and operated by some of the old folks that have lived in the neck of the woods since time immemorial. In Douglas Kincaid’s The Caretaker, it could be the ancient Indian burial grounds situated on the town’s outskirts, a mile or two farther back into the woods.

Book preview

Copyright © 2011 by Douglas Kincaid.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 10/15/2019

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

According To Ben

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Hank And Ben

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Suspicious Minds

Chapter Ten

Sacred Ground

Chapter Eleven

The Storm

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

The Heat Of The Night

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chief Knows The Way

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Jacob Manning

Chapter Twenty

Shaman

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Is It Over

Chapter Twenty-Seven

One Year Later

Angela’s Twenty-Eighth

THE CARETAKER

is a modified screenplay; created

by Douglas Kincaid. His unique style of

writing is new. It is designed specifically, to allow

his readers to enjoy a more personal relationship with

his characters. The author has named this,

NEW WAVE READING. So come on in and

meet everybody, because your

journey begins now.

Sincerely,

Douglas Kincaid

When our body dies, this is when we are able to step out and free ourselves of it. The Caretaker understands this. This is not the first time for him to decide between life and death. He knows when it is his time to return to his chamber of life, and he also knows that I will always be there to receive him when the process has been completed. So rather than die and have no choice but to ascend to his next level of consciousness, he chose to be restored. After all, he is, and always will be . . .

THE CARETAKER

CHAPTER ONE

F OR A MONDAY morning, the day was starting out well for Mark Turner. For the past seven years, Mark has been a real estate consultant and the overseer of all real estate transactions that would involve his employer, Mr. Crimson, the president of a large New York environmental research facility more commonly known as the Crimson Company. Mark shared his office with one of the company’s research supervisors, Laurence Avery, who preferred to be called Loren. Mark used to tease Loren about how the name Loren sounded like a woman’s until Loren pointed out, What would you rather be called twenty times a day on a daily basis? Mark never teased Loren about his name again.

They didn’t really care for each other at first. Loren thought Mark was a pompous ass, and Mark referred to Loren as an arrogant nerd. But as time passed, they had become close friends nonetheless. Loren had three assistants who were in and out of the office on a regular basis. Of course, Mark never complained—but it was, at times, quite annoying. This particular Monday though was unusually quiet since Loren had sent his team to follow up on a chemical spill. Loren’s explanation was that an overturned semitruck had ruffled some feathers of the Department of Agriculture somewhere near Niles, Michigan.

Mark was glad to hear it—not that there had been an accident, but just that now there would be some quiet in the office. Sitting peacefully at his desk, Mark began going over some unopened mail that he had purposely neglected to read before leaving the office the night before.

After all, he thought, what could be so important that it couldn’t wait a few hours? His specially brewed cup of coffee—always very strong, with two sugars and a healthy dose of swiss mocha cream—definitely took priority. First coffee, then mail. Unfortunately on this particular morning, before his special blend had the chance to reach his mouth, the quiet of the office was rudely interrupted.

Hey, Mark! You will never guess where Crimson wants to send you. The loudness quickly dominated the room, and of course, Mark jumped from being caught off guard.

Damn it, Loren! Couldn’t you have at least waited until I finished my breakfast here? I could have seriously burned myself. You know what you need, Loren—let me rephrase that: do you know what I need, Loren? I really need you to learn how to ease into a conversation rather than startling the hell out of everybody. Take me, for example, who’s just trying to enjoy the peace and quiet we rarely get around here, and especially this early in the morning . . . Now is that too much to ask?

Sorry, Mark, I’ll have to work on that. And by the way, grumpy, thanks for the lecture . . . if you only knew how much that meant to me. And since I have your attention—

Hold it right there, Loren, Mark said, still a bit agitated from being so rudely interrupted. Before you say another word, the answer is no, I don’t have a clue where Crimson wants to send me. What does concern me though is your enthusiasm. Which can only mean that I’m probably not going to be a happy camper. How am I doing so far?

I’m not 100 percent sure, Mark, but my guess is that you’re probably not. And as unfortunate as that might be, I still have to tell you anyway, so listen up. Earlier, I received a fax from the boss’s office, and it seems there’s been a problem of some kind regarding that Barnstown, Montana, property you leased for the company a while back.

Loren, please tell me you’re joking. It’s only been five weeks or so since we closed that deal. How could anything have gone wrong?

Sorry, old buddy, but it says here that you are to meet with Crimson and some of his cronies upstairs in their conference room today at one o’clock sharp, end of message. Mark, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that the deal where you had a run-in with some old Indian that—how can I gently put this—hated your guts or something to that effect?

"Yeah, it is, and yes, he did. And to make things even worse, that old Indian, come to find out, had been the Caretaker of that particular piece of land for as long as the locals that I talked to in the area could remember. I’ve got to give him credit where credit’s due though because he tried like hell to change my mind about the place. Loren, you’re just lucky that your team wasn’t part of the crew that had to set up shop out there.

That old Caretaker never missed a trick. When you thought he’d given up annoying the hell out of you with his ridiculous Indian superstitions is when he’d sit and stare at you for hours at a time. I tried to tell him that we weren’t going to hurt the place and that we’d only be there for a year or so and then we’d be gone. I explained that Crimson only wanted to observe the wildlife in and around that area because of some reports of animals behaving out of character, and that was about it . . . Of course, he didn’t buy it. Instead, it’s just like I told you. He became my personal pain in the ass during my entire stay there.

Well, Mark, maybe I can shed a little light on that for you. Global warming and Barnstown came up in a conversation at one of his board meetings, and so did the animals. The boss was especially interested in ozone deterioration and the effect small doses of radiation might have on them—well, you know how the boss is when he gets a lead on something having to do with radiation and animals.

Yeah, I do. Mark sighed. That’s what got the ball rolling. And of course, when the animals behaving badly were brought to Crimson’s attention, I was on the first plane out and on my way to Montana to nose around. And up to now, or at least before you told me about the fax, I thought that everyone was happy with the deal.

Not everyone, Mark. The Caretaker thought you sucked.

Why do you keep reminding me of that?

Loren smiled. Just saying.

"Yes, Loren, except for the Caretaker—who, of course, was there every day during the entire construction of the lab. I even went as far as hiring the man. I thought, just maybe, if I could keep him busy enough to divert his attention away from bugging the hell out of us, that it just might speed things up a bit. But it didn’t.

Every day he’d remind me—no, it was worse than that—every day he would ‘drill’ into my head what a tragic mistake I had made by choosing his ancestors’ land to build on. So after about three weeks of listening to his lectures is when I started counting down the days to when I’d be catching the first flight out of there and heading for home.

Yeah, I remember when you got back, Loren joked. It had been so quiet around here while you were gone.

You are a funny man, Loren, you know that?

All right, Mark. All kidding aside, why did you choose there if you were so uncomfortable about the place?

Good question, and at times I wonder about that myself. I guess the reason is because of the weirdness that seemed to surround that entire area. I always felt uncomfortable there. I don’t know quite how to explain it, but it was like an invisible force of some kind watching you—you know, like when you’re home alone at night and you just finished a good horror movie—the feeling’s kind of like that. And of course, the Caretaker only made it worse.

Are you sure it just wasn’t him that made you feel that way? That old Indian sounds a little spooky.

No, I don’t think so, but the fact that he was extremely annoying all the time did make me suspicious of him. It was clear that he was hiding something, and I felt certain that it scared him to think that I might find out what it was. And just for the record, Loren, my choice had nothing to do with the town or the townspeople either—they were wonderful to me. And I’m not exaggerating when I say that Barnstown is an incredibly beautiful place. It’s in the mountains approximately 8,600 feet up, and it sits about 3 miles off the main road, deep in amongst the redwoods.

Redwoods? Mark, Montana doesn’t have very many redwood trees in the entire state. Are you sure you don’t mean ponderosa pines?

Loren, I know the difference between a huge redwood and a pine tree, but if it makes you feel any better, there were ponderosas mixed in with them. And that’s what I’m trying to say, this place was like nowhere I have ever been before. And there was definitely a lot of wildlife to observe there too. So to make a long story short, besides the obvious beauty of the place, I figured if any animals out there acted like that old Indian, we’d be in business. Of course, Crimson thought that I was joking about the last part—I wasn’t.

Mark, to get my mind off the redwoods, if not the Caretaker, who showed you around town once you got there?

"Well, I got lucky is what happened. Not long after I arrived, I was fortunate enough to meet an old local man by the name of Ben Cybin. I ran across him and his wife, Ruth, at a little country market they have there. They were really helpful, and Ben and I hit it off right away. So when he graciously offered to show me around the place, of course I took him up on the offer—and I’d probably still be there if I hadn’t. He and his wife knew everything you could possibly want to know about the town.

"Ben described it as unspoiled, and he was right. Everything about Barnstown looked as though it had been hidden away from the outside world for a very long time. Personally, Loren, I think the redwoods definitely play a huge part in what makes this place special. But it’s also the town that completes the picture. It only has a few shops, one’s a hair salon and the other is a barber shop, then there’s a very good ice cream parlor—great banana splits by the way—and a couple novelty stores. And they’re all owned and operated by some of the old folks that have lived in that neck of the woods most of their lives. There are no Motel 6s or Holiday Inns there. Just a few cabins that you can rent by the week or by the month, and that’s on a ‘first come, first served’ rule.

"Personally, Loren, I’d have to say that it’s the perfect vacation spot for guys like you and me who just need to take a break, you know what I mean? To just get away for a while, and where no one would ever think to look. If you wanted to go fishing or just enjoy the peace and quiet, this is where you would want to come to do it. Now on the other hand, Loren, the property Crimson was interested in was outside of town a mile or two farther back in the woods. Ben’s the one who informed me that this particular piece of land was an old Indian burial ground, which until then I had no idea about. He also made it clear that he didn’t like the idea of me looking around out there by myself. And he didn’t seem too thrilled about coming along for the ride either, but he did anyway.

"Ben and I drove by the place so I’d at least know how to get there, and I’m glad he did. Because if he hadn’t pointed out where it was, I would have had a hell of a time finding it. There was just a tiny old dirt road no more than a half mile long that you had to turn onto to get there and then it disappeared into a forest of redwoods, and that was it. I knew Ben didn’t want to go in, and he seemed relieved that I didn’t ask him to. So the next day, I went back by myself.

After I found the place, Loren, what first caught my attention was as soon as I entered the property, I began to feel extremely uneasy. Now keep in mind, I did a lot of hiking while I was there. After all, I was trying to locate areas of interest. And there were a few, but nothing like that old Indian burial ground. And when I returned to the property a couple of days later, I got that same ‘hurry up and do what you have to do and then get the hell out of there’ feeling again.

Mark, that unwanted feeling that you were experiencing, is that the invisible force you were talking about?

I think so. But that’s just it, you can’t put your finger on it. It’s just there.

Loren added, And that’s when you told Crimson that this would be an excellent spot to begin their investigation?

That’s right. Caretaker or not, this was definitely the place.

All right, Mark, so what’s the big whoop-de-do? Just go fix the problem and relax in town for a while. Bring home some trout—I know you love to fish.

Yeah, you’re probably right, Mark agreed. It’s just the idea of going back there again . . . Once was enough. But like you said, it’s probably nothing.

Of course I’m right, Loren said reassuringly. It’s just you having to deal with that old Caretaker, that’s what you’re not looking forward to. And who knows, Mark, you probably won’t even see the guy. You’ll be fine.

Time was passing quickly as Mark and Loren talked of their most trying assignments with the company. But none of them compared to what Mark had learned at his one o’clock conference meeting. What was explained in the privacy of that conference room was so disturbing that it made Barnstown the last place Mark wanted to go. It wasn’t the leasing of the property that was a problem. All the t’s were crossed and the i’s were dotted. The problem was that this particular piece of real estate was one that Mark and the Crimson Company should have never set foot on. And now there were six Crimson researchers who had been savagely murdered there because of it, and Mark was being sent back to find out why.

CHAPTER TWO

L OREN HAD JUST hung up the phone with Bobby, his man in charge of the Michigan chemical spill, when Mark returned from his one o’clock meeting.

Well, Mark, how’d it go? Loren asked, but there was no response. Instead, Mark walked straight to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out an unopened pint of brandy, followed by two shot glasses that he and Loren would use occasionally on stressful days. Mark then sat down, still without saying a word.

All right, Mark, I can tell from the absence of your basic verbal skills that the meeting didn’t go well. Still no response. Now Loren was becoming annoyed. What am I, invisible over here or what?

Loren, you don’t know the half of it, Mark answered as he carefully poured two full shots. He quickly downed one then poured another.

Now you’re starting to worry me, old buddy. What’s going on that’s got you so wound up?

All right, Loren, but just remember, you asked. Loren rolled his chair over to Mark’s desk, sat down, and drank his shot of brandy. Wasting no time, Mark refilled it and then for a full half an hour they discussed the chilling details of the Barnstown incident until Loren had heard enough.

My god, Mark, you’re in way over your head on this one, pal. So what are you going to do? And please don’t tell me that you’re really considering this? I’m serious, Loren said, now obviously feeling the effects of the brandy. If I were you, I’d be spooked as hell. Mark, listen to me. You can’t just go wandering around aimlessly back there by yourself. That could have just as easily been your ass that was ripped to shreds on that mountain if you hadn’t of come back when you did.

I appreciate your concern, Loren, I really do, but I have to go. This was my deal, and I can’t help but feel partially responsible. And I’m the only one here that knows his way around the place. And besides that, I already told Crimson that I would.

Mark, you are friggin’ out of your mind. Who’s going with you, nobody?

Mark smiled. Here you go, Loren, have another shot. Maybe if we get drunk, this will all go away.

I seriously doubt it, Loren argued. But fill them up anyway. At least it’s a plan. Getting drunk is a hell of a better idea than what Crimson came up with.

Listen, if it will make you feel any better, Loren, Crimson does have someone in mind to go with me. And I have someone who I think would be perfect for the job myself. The boss is going to catch me up to speed with the final details tomorrow morning. So for now we might as well finish off this bottle and try not to dwell on it . . . all right?

Mark, you are trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?

Of course not, Loren. At least, no drunker than me . . . Why?

’Cause you have that ‘cat that caught the canary’ look on your face.

Mark chuckled. You know, I wish you wouldn’t have said it that way. Now, everything I’m going to talk about next is going to sound rehearsed, so what do you say that we change the subject to something more pleasant? Like, you know, how you have always been so interested in our animal kingdom. And how this greenhouse effect that our planet has been in for these past fewyears has been fooling with the natural order of things, right? In fact, Loren, just the other day you told me that you had been following up on some research on how our planet was becoming warmer and that I should be concerned about the melting of our polar ice caps. And just a minute ago you had mentioned how the deterioration of our Earth’s ozone layer could possibly affect various types of our animal life.

As in making them more aggressive? Loren said suspiciously.

Exactly.

OK, Mark, where are you going with this? You know I can always tell when you’re trying to sucker me into something . . . just like now, for example.

Loren, please, just hear me out for a minute longer.

All right, Mark, I’ll give you two.

OK, through the years we have both heard of cases similar to this. There have been reports where people no different than you or me have possibly been affected one way or another. Some think it’s because of changes in the Earth’s magnetic field or solar flares and, of course, radiation exposure. Or how many times have we heard stories of mothers in fits of rage who have, for no apparent reason, turned on their babies? or multiple suicide cases in the same town? Now I know these cases have never been proven to be linked, but—

Get to the point, Mark, you’re killing me here—no pun intended.

All right, Loren, I’ll get to the point. I want you to come with me.

Oh no, you didn’t . . . Mark, what did you do?

Come on, it won’t be that bad. And who knows, between the two of us, we might just be able to unravel the case. Think of it this way, Loren: you’re already a research investigator. This will just be a little different to what you’re used to, that’s all. On top of that, you’ll be a big help to Mr. Crimson if you go—so what do you say? Let’s score some bonus points with the boss.

I knew it! Loren laughed. I told you I can always tell when you’re trying to con me. But then again, I would hate to see you out there by yourself wandering around like an idiot.

So it’s settled then, you’re coming with me . . . right?

I don’t know, Mark. If I were to just pack up and leave now, that would mean that I’d have to reschedule everything on my calendar, and that could take a while.

Mark smiled. No you wouldn’t, Loren. I’ve already read your schedule, and it’s open all month.

Mark, you’re despicable. You knew you had me the whole time, didn’t you?

Loren, I’m sorry, but I really need you to come with me. I’ll put you on the payroll tomorrow. That way, the entire trip won’t cost you a dime. And if that doesn’t interest you, this might. The lab is sitting right on that old Blackfoot burial ground property. Loren, you know there must be a lot of history on the place, and it’s just waiting for you to check it out. And don’t forget about the Caretaker. Personally, Loren, I think that old Indian will fascinate the hell out of you. Maybe even show you around if he doesn’t scare you to death first with some of his crazy superstitions about us trespassers.

Mark, correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t we just figure out that the Caretaker was probably the reason you dreaded going back?

Yeah, but you know how I am. I don’t believe in that hocus-pocus crap . . . but I know you do. How’s that old saying go? ‘What creeps one guy out draws the other one in’?

Sorry, Mark, haven’t heard that one . . . Don’t figure, huh?

Yeah, I’m surprised.

Loren thought for a moment. All right, Mark, I’m all out of excuses why I can’t go, and I’m pretty sure that it wouldn’t matter even if I did . . . So you talked me into it. Now if there’s nothing else that you want to surprise me with, when are we leaving?

We’ll be leaving day after tomorrow. I’ve already scheduled a car to pick you up at your place at 8:45 a.m. It’ll bring you directly to the airport, and all you have to do, Loren, is be ready. Our company plane will be departing at 9:30 a.m. sharp. And by the way, thanks.

CHAPTER THREE

According to Ben

B EN AND HIS wife, Ruth, were relaxing on their cabin’s front porch when Don Higgins, their good friend and neighbor from down the road, stopped by.

Howdy, neighbors, Don shouted.

Well, I’ll be. Ben chuckled. Look who the cat dragged in.

Good evening, Don, Ruth said kindly, and don’t pay any attention to Mr. Polite here.

Don smiled. That’s all right, Ruth, I know the old coot’s just messing with me.

That I am. So don’t just stand there, come on up and take a load off your feet.

Please do, Ruth said. You boys make yourselves comfortable. And, Don, I made a fresh batch of lemonade. I’ll go get some glasses and be right back.

Thank you, Ruth. That sounds real good. And by the way, you two, happy anniversary.

"Don,