Cullen Bunn puts out far too many horror books with far too little quality control, so it's always a roll of the dice to try a new one. I was particularly short on optimism here, given he has a co-writer and that's seldom a good sign – set against which, the art is from his Harrow County team-mate, the great Tyler Crook. Who once again gets to show off his gift for depicting America's small towns, its countryside and its ruins, albeit a little closer to the modern day this time. Also, of course, its spooks. We open on the patriarch of a magical dynasty taking council with his forebears, whom he must soon join, knowing full well what awaits him: they are cadavers, decaying ever more until they're only spectres, but still bound to wait there, seemingly forever. First, though, he must choose an heir – but as is so often the way with privileged families, the available specimens are a ghastly bunch, save for the one who seemingly wants nothing to do with the family trade. This looks like quite enough story to be going on with, and certainly more than plenty of Bunn horror launches have had. But no – there's another magical story underway in the same little patch of land, not one directly tied in to the first story, but one which will inevitably collide with it. Meaning we get some quality sorcerous confrontations, but also a comic that quietly makes itself about something while it's doing that, about the haves and the have-nots, and how the self-proclaimed champions of the latter often seem to do pretty well out of screwing them over in the course of becoming an even uglier version of the former. Plus, there's a real sense of character in the dialogue, making even the minor players feel solid:
"This isn't one of your frappa-latte, city coffees is it?"
"Black and straight from the station pot. Mine is, at least. Yours is the one with the three sugars, three creams."
"It's that kind of attention to detail that'll see you go far in this department."
"Shoot, it ain't nothing to remember, sir...you and my 13-year-old niece like your coffee the same way."
I think I may need to start keeping an eye out for that co-writer, Brian Hurtt, in his own right.