Free Skull Moon by Tim Curran Page B

Crazytail was again visited by the spirit Wolf-Skull. The time of the Skullhead is at hand as it was in ancient times."
    Longtree felt a chill go up his back. "Who is the Skullhead?"
    Moonwind shook her head. "My father will speak no more. No white man may know of this. The Blood-Medicine is sacred to the Skull Society. The Skullhead has been summoned. He is among us now," she said, her eyes shining, "and getting closer."
    Longtree felt a certain uneasiness worm through him. His skin had gone cold now, his stomach stirring sickly. There was a veiled threat in her words.
    He was half-white, yes, and that half wanted to laugh at all this nonsense. Nothing but injun gobbledegook, ghost stories, old wives' tales. Crap handed down generation by generation. Just shit that had been dreamed up by some injun shaman blown clear into dreamland by peyote. But Longtree was also half-Crow. And that part of him was concerned. It knew better than to scoff at the medicine of the tribes. And it was commonly known that the Blackfeet were possessed of a very powerful medicine.
    But, damn, it was all a load of horseshit, right?
    He left Crazytail, knowing he'd get no more this night. He mounted his black and looked down at Moonwind.
    She watched him, her lips forming words silently. Under her breath, she said, "Beware, Joseph Longtree, for the Skull Moon grows full."
    Longtree rode off into the dead of night, shivering.
     
    7
----
     
    At around ten that night, Lauters--not drinking for the moment--decided to pay a visit on Dr. Perry. Anna, Perry's housekeeper, answered the door and led the sheriff through the maze of the surgery to the little study at the back of the house.
    "Didn't expect to see you this late, Bill," Perry said.
    "Couldn't sleep," Lauters explained. "I can never sleep worth a damn anymore."
    Unless you're dead drunk, Perry felt like saying, but didn't. He was sitting behind his desk, a brass microscope set out before him. There were other things there as well--a box of slides, a few dark corked bottles, several jars, an array of metal instruments. A dissection kit stood open, a scalpel and forceps missing from the felt-lined case. There were several tufts of fur laid out as well.
    "What are you doing, Doc?"
    Perry stroked his mustache. "A little detective work." He motioned to the tufts of fur. "You know what these are?"
    "Bits of animal fur," Lauters said, examining books in oak shelves, most titles of which he couldn't pronounce.
    "Not just any, though. I have pelts from grizzlies, foxes, coyotes, wolves. In fact, from all the known predators in this area," he explained. "I'm examining hairs from each with those of our mysterious friend here."
    Lauters sat down across from him. "And?"
    "And I've concluded what we already know. This tuft of fur is not from any of these creatures. Though," Perry confided in a low tone, "it shares similarities with human hair. But much more coarse."
    "So what does this tell us?"
    Perry cleared his throat. "Do you know what a mutation is, Sheriff?"
    "Haven't the foggiest."
    Perry studied him closely. Lauters' fingers were trembling. He was bloated and pale. The tip of his nose was purple from ruptured blood vessels and capillaries. Liver spots were numerous on his hands. He licked his lips constantly. These were the signs of the chronic alcoholic.
    "Doc?" Lauters said.
    "Oh yes, sorry. Getting old. My mind wandered."
    Lauters fixed him with a cold stare. "I'll just bet it did."
    "Anyway, Sheriff, a mutation is simply a variation in a known species. A physical change that occurs suddenly or slowly, either from environmental factors or hereditary factors or any number of reasons that science has yet to determine."
    "What does this have to do with anything?"
    Perry smiled. He knew Lauters understood very well what he was getting at. But the sheriff was a man who liked things explained to him in very clear language so there was no possibility of misinterpretation.
    "What I'm saying, Bill, is that