Emmett is now surrounded by the white blankness, moving slowly
under the broiling sun.
He stops his walking horses and squints out into the distance,
seeing something. We see it too, but just barely: a distant,
horizontal smudge on the glaring sand.
Emmett reaches the smudge. It is a man, barefoot and dressed
only in longjohns, his head propped on a rock, eyes closed.
The man's skin is burned red and beginning to blister, his
lips parched. Yet there is a curious ease to his repose. If
he has lain down here to die, he has done it in peace. This
Emmett lifts Paden's head and puts the canteen to his lips.
Paden's eyes struggle to open in the glare. He takes a few
sips of the water. His lips crack with a slight smile at the
taste. He looks up at Emmett, takes another sip, and tries
to speak. Emmett must lean down to hear his raspy whisper as
he tries again.
Pleased to meet you.
EXT. NIGHT CAMP - DESERT - NIGHT
The terrain here is more hospitable. Paden, wrapped snugly
in a blanket, lies with his head against the saddle from the
pinto. Emmett is preparing his bedroll across the fire.
Two of the horses ran off, but that
pinto you're riding hung around.
You got no idea what they were after?