Dead Again in Tombstone Page #2

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Take it easy, partner.

Let's take this inside.

Get inside. Get inside!

Let's not.

You sure you want this fight?

I surely do not.

But to get that book, if I have to,

I'll roll out the drums of war.

Goddamn, Guerrero.

I hate to break up this little party

you got goin' on out here,

but you sure are a spectacle

to observe while you're in action.

But my patience grows thin.

Give me what I want now,

or I will burn down this town

and everyone in it.

I'll take you where the box is buried.

No.

Now we're talkin'.

Cravens, take away his guns

and prepare to move out.

You two, be safe.

And bury my horse next to Papi's grave.

Where is it?

Buried right over there.

We will have all of our guns trained on you.

You pull any funny business,

and we will fill you full of so much lead,

you will sink like a stone.

Now, go dig up that box.

Posthaste, Guerrero.

Bring it over here.

- Yeah.

- Got it! Yeah!

Ho! Guerrero!

You ain't gettin' away!

Stop it!

Cease fire!

Hold it!

What are you, crazy? Get over here.

You said we'd fill him

full of lead if he tried to escape.

I was bluffin' to keep him in line.

Now, go get his body.

He's dead, Colonel.

Nobody could take that much lead and survive.

Yeah. Well, I wanna see it for myself.

Now, go find his body.

That lyin' sack of sh*t!

Now we're gonna have to find out

who knows where the real box is.

I've seen you.

Easy. Hey. Take it easy, son. Take it easy.

Do you work for the Devil?

You always assume people are bad?

Aren't they?

No.

I'm a white hat kind of guy myself.

I'm Dr. Goldsworthy.

Are you a real doc...

Son of a b*tch.

This Guerrero has a... A daughter, you say?

Not bad to look at.

But not a high-class lady.

Not like the girls I employ here.

Would you like a viewing?

As is your custom, Madame Du Vere.

Alicia is her name.

Poor thing. She's rough around the edges.

And she knows nothing

about fashion or perfumes.

Or how to please a man.

She serves greasy plates over at Pinky's

Saloon to the unwashed trash.

My, you are a devil.

Which body type do you prefer?

Hourglass?

Heart-shaped?

Rotund?

Oh!

How about you?

- Me?

- Yes, you.

You prefer me to these younger girls?

Well, you're like the diamond

to their silver settings.

I'm top of the ticket, Mr. Boomer.

The hours, they go fast,

and don't come cheap.

Well, giddyap.

Shall we continue this discussion

in my chamber room?

Yes, ma'am.

Gabriella?

Give me some good news.

He's alive.

Are you sure?

Yeah. It was a long way off,

but I saw him through my binoculars.

A man drug him out of the river,

put him in a wagon.

Where'd he take him?

A house in town.

A nice bath. It will help.

Yeah.

Dr. Goldsworthy.

Didn't expect to see you here.

I've been following your life

for a very long time now, Guerrero.

You're a good man, despite yourself.

I've done a lot of things

I'm not too proud of.

No man's perfect.

I believe every man deserves a second chance.

I was born a sinner.

I'll probably die a sinner.

You're more than just a sinner.

You're a son,

a father.

You can find redemption.

Think the Lord would be hard-pressed

trying to forgive me.

Yet here you are.

So why not forgive yourself for your sins?

There's more at stake than you realize.

Stake? What's at stake?

Your soul, for one.

Your daughter.

Alicia.

She's the future.

Your legacy.

Where I go, Doc,

Devil follows me.

I don't see him here, do you?

You can choose a righteous path.

Now's your chance.

I pulled you from that river

for one reason, son.

To stop ridin' with the Devil

and get yourself right!

Thank you.

Thank you for your hospitality

this fine mornin'.

This coffee's on the house, Mr. Boomer.

And it's to go,

because you're not wanted here.

Is that so, Ms. Alicia de la Cruz?

It seems the apple don't fall

too far from the tree.

Although, you're a mite easier

on the eyes than your old man.

What do you want?

Mmm. Ah.

Eggs, please.

Sunny-side up.

Bacon.

Crispy.

Ah, now, Mr. Cravens, manners.

Jackson Boomer's out there

with his gang, wanting breakfast.

He knows.

Knows what?

He knows Guerrero's my father.

What'd he order?

Eggs, sunny-side up.

Let's give him what he ordered and then some.

Hmm?

What's that?

Cyanide.

Will it kill him?

Kills the rats.

He's a rat, right?

What about me?

She don't like you.

Have a seat.

Anything else?

Your company.

I have work to do.

I am your work, Alicia.

Now, please...

Sit.

What do you want with me?

I don't even know my father.

Shame on him for leaving

such a beautiful young thing

to fend for herself.

I'm doing okay.

You'd be doin' a lot better

if you worked down the street

for Madame Du Vere.

I like to do my work standing up.

Do you have any idea where your grandfather

might have hidden a bone box?

I've no clue.

Bull Dog.

You smell somethin'?

You're gonna love this.

We don't call him Bull Dog

on account of his pugilistic prowess.

Stale beer.

Sawdust.

Cheap perfume.

And whiskey breath on about

30 men on a refried bean diet.

And?

Somebody puked over in the corner.

It's about a week old.

Somebody scrubbed it,

but the odor lingers

a little bit too much for my taste.

Impressive, huh?

Yeah. Some parlor trick.

- Now, if you'll excuse me...

- Eh.

No, I will not excuse you.

Bull Dog.

Are these eggs fresh?

I wouldn't, boss.

Fresh eggs have a particular aroma.

Are these eggs fresh, Alicia?

Got yourself a sickness there, Mr. Boomer?

Diversion.

Nice tactic.

To answer your question, yes.

This little mixture of morphine and alcohol

helps me get through the day.

And I expect when this container

is empty and gone,

I shall be gone with it.

Hence, the urgency for finding

the location of the bone box.

And this will magically

heal all that ails you?

It will heal, yes.

Now...

Back to business.

Are these eggs fresh?

Fresh as a daisy.

Goddamn, Guerrero!

That is one hell of an entrance.

And might I say, your timing is impeccable.

Get the hell outta here, Alicia.

Not so fast, young lady.

Keep my family out of this.

She's in the tall cotton now, Guerrero.

And I have you to thank for

leadin' me to this sh*t-hole town

so rich in family history.

You know, the funny thing is,

your father stole this thing.

It's not yours to protect or to own.

My family and me got nothin' to do with it.

Red was spinning you a tale.

And if my father did steal something,

he took that secret to the grave with him.

Give me what I want, Guerrero,

or I will fill the next coffin with

the carcass of your gorgeous daughter.

Understand?

I don't think so.

Mama.

Goddamn, Guerrero.

You got one hell of a family.

You'd better let her go, or I'm going

to blow your brains out your ass.

One.

We don't have to go

and start killin' each other now.

Two.

I'd do what she says, Jackson.

Mama don't play.

Three.

Okay.

Fine.

You got me.

Cover me. Cover me!

Go. Cover me.

Oh!

Mamacita. Mama. Mama. Mama. Mama.

Dr. Goldsworthy knows.

Do the right thing, mijo.

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