Dry Bones: a Walt Longmire Mystery

Cover Dry Bones: a Walt Longmire Mystery
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Genres: Fiction
In his shirtsleeves, despite the weather, he stood there singing a Cheyenne song.
    It was a clear night, the kind that freezes the air in your lungs with nothing standing between your upturned face and the glittering cold of those pinpricks in the endless darkness, the wash of stars constructing the Hanging Road as it arced toward the Camp of the Dead.
    The man next to me had stopped singing and spoke from the side of his mouth. It was a voice I’d heard before, even though I couldn’t exac
...tly place it. I heard me call out to him. “Virgil?”
    He half-turned toward me, his profile sharp, and I could see that it was not Virgil White Buffalo as he studied me from the corner of one eye. “You’re bleeding?”
    I watched myself looking down at the blood soaking through my sheepskin coat and the ground around me. “Um, yep . . . I think I am.”
    He walked effortlessly toward me, his face only a few inches from my own, the empty sockets shooting through his head like twin telescopes magnifying the black, infinite space with only a few aberrant sparks of warmth from dying stars.
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