"Werewolves? I never heard of them son you're gonna need to explain it to me." John said.

"According to legend Werewolves are humans, who are cursed to turn into monsters by the light of the full moon." Jack said "They can pass the curse onto anyone they bite or scratch, kinda like the Undead."

"Well that's all well and good. So we just shoot 'em?"

"Well no not exactly. The books say there's only a few ways to kill a Werewolf?"

"Okay well I'm keen to hear what they are." John said.

"Well one is to behead them, but the problem with that is they're really fast, and they are really tough. The other way is silver."

"Silver?"

"Yeah well the book said that they're alegic to silver." Jack said. John began to laugh, which made Jack looked puzzled "What's so funny."

John pulled out one of his over sized revolvers and opened the chamber, emptied the bullets into his palm and handed them to Jack. "Look."

Jack took the bullets from his father, and looked at them. The rays of light that came from the horizon, showed that the bullets were made from pure silver. "That nun said you're bullets were silver. Why is that?" Jack asked his father.

"I don't know I was just told silver was better for killing these the Undead. Apparently it's something to do with silver being pure." John said as Jack gave him the bullets back. "Well the bad news is that the bullets I have are made specifically for these guns."

"Well you should keep a hold of them Pa." Jack said, "Well we should go. Get this over with." Jack said making his way back over to the stage coach,

"Well we should stop at the Cemmetery, in Sepulcro."

"What? Why?" Jack asked as they climbed back onto the stagecoach.

"To burn the bodies, it'll keep the Undead's numbers down." Jack nodded in silent agreement. "Javiér! Get on the gatling gun. We may have trouble." Javiér did as he was told and clibed into the the stagecoach. He opened the hatch on the roof and took his pace. "EVERYONE LOAD UP! WE'RE LEAVING IN ONE MINUTE!"

Cathy, Riain, Mary and Irish clambered into the stagecoach. Jack approached the young blonde soldier who was also travelling with them. "Hey." The soldier turned to Jack "What's your name."

"Samuel Jefferson." The soldier told Jack.

"I think you should stick close by Mary. You two are both new to our cause so I guess it's up to you to look out for her." Jack smirked as he climbed back onto the the front of the Stagecoach "Let's go Pa." John whipped the reins and the horses sped forward.

Near Las Hermanes

The Mexican desert was roaming with Undead. They were scattered but large in area. No living people were out in the open. They all had left to seek refuge in the nearest town. Jack Looked towards the Convent. He had saved it from a rowdy gang two weeks prior, after he had killed Edgar Ross. He thought about the man he had killed. The man that had set hispath in life. He had killed Ross in order to avenge his father. Who was now sitting next to him.

"Something on your mind boy?" John asked, "You've been staring at me for the last two, minutes." looked at his son though he still focused on the road.

"Yeah, Pa. I'm fine." Jack lied.

"Don't lie to me Jack. You can't lie to me. I'm your dad remember. I know somethings eating you inside. So spill it." John looked sternly at his son.

"Look Pa, I did something a few weeks ago. Something...not bad but...something..." Jack didn't feel like he could say it. "I killed Edgar Ross."

John stiffened a fire burned in his eyes, "Dammit Jack. I never wanted this life for you. Killing people..."

"I only ever killed Ross. That's it." Jack snapped back at his father. the stagecoach neared Las Hermanes which was encompassed in a circle of the protective circle he had seen surround Matilda's carriage. "Pa look."

John looked at the flaming circle. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a protective circle. Keeps the Undead out. The Gypsy is here, she made it out of the Fort."

"If it keeps the Undead out it means I'm not Welcome. John Stopped the stage coach outside the circle and Jumped off. "I'm heading for the graveyard. Get inside and get as much Holy Water as you can." John Grabbed the scythe he had fastened to the side of the stagecoach." He took of running.

"Jack, We have a problem." Javier called out.

Jack looked to see the Undead swarming towards the stagecoaches. "Javier get everyone inside, I'll keep them busy."

Everybody fled their stagecoaches as Jack climbed to the Gatling gun mounted on the rear of his fathers. He cranked the handle and a hail of bullets charged the Undead horde with unmerciful force.

Sepulcro

John cut his way into the graveyard. The Undead were not as thick within the confines of the walls as he anticipated. He pulled he walked towards a grave that lay undisturbed. He picked up he lit his torch and illuminated the writing on the headstone, which had been heavily desecrated it read; "Agustin Allende. Rot in Hell".

Even in death the former colonel hadn't got any respect. John saw the soil begin to shift, as Allende and several other corpses draggeed themselves out of the ground. John pulled a bottle of Holy water out of his Satchel. He unscrewed the lid he threw the bottle sending the water spiraling out of the open lid, which rained down on the Undead, igniting them it a burst of Holy Fire. John drew his revolvers dropping the torch. and shot at the Undead who began to rise.

The Undead were relentless. but John destroyed all of them who were in his path. Within a few minutes. the graveyard was fillled with the smouldering corpses of the undead. A loud groan then caught John's attention. A Bruiser came charging towards him. John stood still waiting for the bohemoth to get closer, John prepared himself. Once the sreature was at arms lenght John punched the Undead bruiser with all the force he could muster, breaking his neck in the process.

John walked out of the graveyard. A group of bolters charger him. Before he could react, John watched as the creatures stopped as their heads exploded. John looked towards the road where a shadowy figure stood, a revolver pointed in front of him. The mysterious person walked towards John.

"Thanks for that, friend. Its nice to see somone else alive."

The figure made his way towards John his head was tipped down. He stepped closer and the light from John's torch illuminated his body, and he raised his head to meet John's gaze, He was roughly in his fifties. His face was aged and had scars similar to John's running along both sides of his face. His eyes were cold and focused, showing litte or no sign of emotion He was wearing worn, and ragged dark blue clothes. His left hand was wrapped in a red bandana. His hat was battered and had several chunks missing from the rim. He tipped his hat to John before speaking. "Not a problem Mister." he expertly spun his gun in his revolver in his fingers, then placed it in his holster.

"You're a fair marksman oldman. I reckon you'd give Landon Ricketts a run for his money." John laughed. His eye wandered to the gun, the other man had just place in his holster. The light from the torch revealed gold ingrained on the side of the handle, It shone brilliantly in the light of the torch. John took another moment to see the Gold formed the image of a scorpion. "That's a fine weapon." John commented.

The man smirked a little. "Yours look fairly deccent, too. Mr Marston."

John's vision narrowed. "Do I know you?"

"Maybe. The name's Red. Red Harlow.

John looked at the older man."I know you alright. You're that Bounty 're wanted in several states."

"So are you, Mr. Marston." Red said his eyes squinting in focus. "Or do they go away after you die."

"So you know a bit about me. " John stated.

"I was once asked to kill you." Red replied.

John felt something drop in his stomach. "Why didn't you do it."

Red stared at John. "I only hunt people that don't feel sorry for what they done. That's my one rule."

"Well that's comforting to know." John laughed a little. "So how do you know I feel sorry for what I done."

"I saw your family." Red said. "I read about how you hunted down your old gang in order to keep them safe. I woulda done the same thing. I was a trigger pull away from shooting you." Red stateted "I didn't. I wouldn't do that to a kid." Red snarled. "I wouldn't force that on someone. I watched my Pa die when I was around his age. I let you go."

John eased up. "Thank you."

"Didn't do that much good." Red growled. "That bastard just sent a bunch of troops after you."

John's blood began to boil. "You mean Ross."

"I'm sorry I couldn't hel you."

"Don't worry about it." Jack's voice came. "I made him pay."

Red looked at the boy. The similarities in their lives were uncanny. Red felt sorry for him. "I know the feeling kid."

John looked back and forth between the two. He looked towards the massing Undead that were making their way to the cemetery. "We should continue this inside." He said.

Jack and Red nodded. They ran for the Convent. Jack had the feeling that something bad was going to happen.