The Skinwalker begins life as a medicine man, who becomes attracted to the dark side.
He can shapeshift into the skin of any animal he has personally killed.
He is invulnerable to attack because any injury he may suffer will be passed on to other persons
who are related to him by blood.
In 2016 economic recovery had not yet reached the rural areas of Arizona.
Max Bradley would go hunting with his dad Michael most every night.
Their target was coyote, twenty bucks per hide.
With luck they might bag a deer to feed the family.
Even though July 4th was a holiday, they had no luck that evening and Max regretted missing
the fireworks in Flagstaff.
They didn't have a car, not even a four-wheeler.
Walking home, they cut across a corner of Indian territory... the Navajo Nation reservation.
The beam of Mike's flashlight illuminated some rocks covered with blood.
At first they thought coyotes were responsible.
When a pack of coyotes attack, they pick off one animal that is young or weak or old.
However, they were looking at the bodies of three deer.
Something had stumbled on their den but it was not a normal predator.
The dead animals showed no signs of being fed upon.
And they certainly had not been slaughtered for sport.
Michael told his son he suspected a Skinwalker.
Max objected.
A Skinwalker was a shaman, wasn't it?
Mike said, "I saw this once before, when I was your age.
Skinwalkers may no longer be holy men, but they are men, and they are just as susceptible
to mental illness.
Maybe once in a generation one of these shaman will go mad.
Now that we have crossed its path we have only one chance to leave this reservation
alive.
Either he hunts us, or we hunt him."
Max carried a .22 carbine.
His father had a shotgun.
They followed a trail of blood, until they came to an old mining camp.
The shack located there was little more than a foundation, surrounded by the few wooden
planks that remained standing.
The crimson trail was now accompanied by human footprints and the footprints led up to the
shack.
First they heard a chilling shriek like the howl of a tortured human soul.
Then they saw a naked man covered only with an animal hide.
The Skinwalker showed his face and blinked against the beam of the flashlight.
His face was painted white and he wore a leather necklace with a single bead of turquoise.
His lips curled into a snarl.
"Spread out," Mike told his son.
He began pumping his shotgun.
Max fired all the shots in his ten round magazine, then reloaded the .22 with a spare.
The medicine man seemed to be waiting until they ran out of ammunition.
Apparently he had not been hit by a single round, when he started walking towards the
older Bradley.
He leaned forward as if to spit on the old man.
Instead he released a cloud of powder out of his puffed up cheeks, directly into Mike's
face.
The dust had an immediate, narcotic effect.
Michael collapsed and while his son watched in horror, the Skinwalker made good his escape.
That night Maxwell carried his father home on his back.
It was two days before the paralyzing effect of the powder wore off.
After that Mike would speak only of leaving town, of moving out of state before the Skinwalker
could track down his family.
And finally he told Max about, the first time, he had gone up against a mad shaman.
He was with Max's grandfather.
Except grandpa did not survive the encounter.
But that was not the worst part.
The worst part was when Michael saw grandfather again about ten years after he died... because
the medicine man was wearing his skin.