Here we have our first introduction to Standing Eagle. We learn that there is a tribe of Native Americans living nearby, and that Slade and Standing Eagle have formed a tenuous friendship over the past year that has kept the townsfolk and the tribe from attacking each other.
I had to put a lot of thought into this. Native Americans got a pretty raw deal and that’s an understatement. To fully grasp what happened, imagine if a race of better armed aliens comes to earth today and is like, “OK, I guess we’ll live here now” – would we humans be like, “Hello, we’re already here.”
Purposely, I don’t mention what tribe he’s from because I know if I do someone will object. “You have him doing this or that but that tribe didn’t wear that kind of clothing, do that kind of thing…etc.”
I don’t believe Native Americans particularly care for being portrayed in Westerns since the sentiment behind any western is “Hooray for the cowboys!” and the cowboys didn’t really give the natives much to celebrate, to put it mildly.
But I felt any western really needs Native Americans so my attempt at keeping everyone happy revolves around basically making Standing Eagle feel like, “Sheesh…another mess made by these dummies that I have to help them clean up.”
I do need to rewrite the curse. Initially, it was going to be more of a mystery where people wonder whether the zombie outbreak was caused by the curse or by Doc’s medicine.
But as we’ll see later – we find out that Blythe is plotting a zombie apocalypse before our heroes find out there’s going to be one.
Thus, the reader will become bored if he/she knows who’s bringing the apocalypse – once everyone knows, the red herring is pointless.
I may change the curse to “something bad will happen” or I might remove it all together. I had to remove it because I enjoy the line, “Shut up, dumbass. I’m trying to curse you here.”
There Smelly Jack laid, face down in the dirt, defeated and humiliated, his hands and feet hogtied behind his back. His brothers, cousins, and brother-cousins were all arranged similarly in a line that stretched the entire length of the the road.
Slade and Gunther stood watch over the wanton criminal, ignoring his demands for clemency.
“Dammit Slade, ‘aint you an officer of the law?!” Jack asked. “You’re just going to let them damn dirty Injuns take me away?!”
He didn’t show it, but the Marshall enjoyed letting Smelly Jack sweat.
Standing Eagle approached.
“Let me do the talking,” Slade said to Gunther.
“Since when do you do any talking?” Gunther asked.
“Don’t do the fake Injun talk shit,” Slade said. “He hates that.”
The Chief embraced Slade, who in turn, just let his arms hang down at his sides. Slade’s machismo would not allow him to hug another man.
“I am glad I…
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