Blood Moon Page #2

don't want to catch you

serving that girl whiskey again.

Hey, what are you my father?

You've got no right

talking to me like that.

I got every right.

What the hell's got

into you today, Wade?

I just got back from telling

Jenny Corbin she's a widow.

Got any coffee on the stove?

Coffee?

Yeah, I'll bring you a cup.

Bring me the pot, and two cups.

Coming right up.

Navajo hate coffee.

Prefer firewater.

Taste good.

Guess you heard

about the robbery.

Yeah everyone's saying

it was the Nortons.

Yeah, no one's

willing to form a posse.

Drink it, all of it.

Loumis, where'd

you find this coffee?

Up the rear end of a buffalo?

I said drink it.

I need your help, Black Deer.

I'll pay you 10 dollars.

And a bottle of whiskey.

Alright.

But until those outlaws

are behind bars,

coffee's the only thing

you'll be drinking.

What do you say?

I'll give it some consideration.

Well, don't wait too long.

I'm intent on riding out soon.

Then I need to tell you about

the dream-vision

I had last night.

Been a while since you

bored me about one of those.

An evil Navajo spirit,

a creature that kills in

the light of the blood moon,

yee naaldlooshi.

A skin-walker?

That's just legend.

It's more than legend, Wade.

They're real, and

they're out there.

I don't suppose

you've ever seen one?

Well, would you believe

me if I said I had?

A skin-walker is

a Navajo warrior,

banished from their

tribe, for learning

the forbidden secret

of shape-shifting into,

god dammit Wade,

you're looking at me

like I've been chewing peyote.

The time of the blood

moon is almost upon us,

when skin-walkers are

at their strongest.

Heed my warning.

Delay your search

for a few days.

You got your personal beliefs.

But I got my duties to perform.

Sh*t, I'll ride out alone.

I'll be in your office in

an hour, ready to ride out.

You got any silver bullets?

On my wage?

Hell no, why?

It's a question that

needed to be asked.

Welcome to Mud Flats!

Pine Flats, we're stopping

here for a couple hours.

Wish it was a couple days,

my backside's sore as hell.

Charlie!

Charlie be fixing

biscuits, coffee,

if he's a mind to.

Hey, save me

some of them biscuits.

I'm gonna deal with the horses.

I'll wait out here,

if you don't mind.

I've never been inside

a saloon in my life.

Oh, no, there ain't

been a saloon here since

the silver mine closed

down, everybody left town.

Oh, I assumed the

townspeople were all in church.

Pine Flat's citizens aren't the

church-going kind, if

you get my meaning.

Drunken miners is all some

of them gals really are.

Some of them girls

are real pretty.

It's like a ghost-town.

Not quite, Charlie

Packham stayed on,

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