June 1914. By the side of the San Luis river

The last remaining ounces of Edgar Ross' life drained form his body and into the murky water. Jack Marston Looked at the body at lay before him and then at the gun he had used to take his life. His father had been avenged. Jack turned and walked away. He whistled for his black stallion, which came to his side. He mounted the horse and rode back in the direction of New Austin.

Several minutes later, Philip Ross went to look for his brother. He had been gone quite a while; it usually didn't take him this long to catch a few ducks. He arrived at the Bank, and seen the corpse of his brother almost deep enough to be washed away by the current. He rushed in to the water to pull his brother out of the water. He yelled out in pain over the loss which he had suffered.

One Week Later

Edgar Ross' Body was being lowered into the ground of Blackwater Cemetery. His Wife had placed a silver cross around his neck. It had been a gift to her from him. He claimed it would help guide her to heaven when the time came. However she felt he needed it more now.

Emily Ross got into the automobile owned by Agent Sawicki. He drove her back to her home on the shore side of Lake Don Julio. She gave her thanks and watched as he drove away. She entered her home, and sat at the small table. Edgar was all she had in the world. They had no children; she was all alone in the world.

"I am sorry for your loss." A voice came from the corner. Startled Emily rose from her seat and picked up a large knife that had been resting on the table. "I assure you I mean you no harm Senora."

"Who are you?" Emily asked the stranger, he was in shadow due to the cabin not having very many lights on.

"My name is Quique Montemayor. And I can help you to bring back your husband."

"That's not possible."

"I assure you that it is completely possible. You see, there is…A mask.

Armadillo: Two Weeks Later

Jack arrived outside the sheriff's office, with a hogtied criminal on the back of his horse. Several Marshall's came out of the office.

"Marston you've brought more criminals to us this month than we've caught in the entire year. Why not just join the law?"

Jack snorted in response. "I'll be taking my pay."

The Marshal handed Jack a roll of notes, which he immediately began to count. "It's all there Marston. When are you gonna start to trust me?"

Jack merely snorted again; he took the reins of his horse and led it down the dirt street. He hitched his horse outside the saloon. He headed through the ruckus that was taking place inside, walking cleanly through the crowd, which seemed to clear as he walked through. No one there dared to cross him.

Jack had made a reputation for himself throughout New Austin and West Elizabeth, Winning over 50 duels and only killing a single man, catching 24 bounty targets alive, clearing out several local gang hideouts as well as singlehandedly breaking up a brawl in the saloon, leaving a room full hogtied criminals to be collected by the Marshall and his deputies.

Making his way up to his room, Jack shut and locked the door behind him. He hung his long black coat and hat on the stand in the corner of the room, as well as his bullet belt and bandolier. He left his boots next to his bed. He lay down on the covers of the bed and crossed his arms behind his head.

Looking up at the ceiling he slowly drifted into a deep sleep. His dreams plagued by the memories of his past, His father's death, his mother becoming distant and reclusive, then her death, killing Edgar Ross, each one of these things had a huge impact on his life.

Jack awoke to the sound of shooting; he looked out the window and saw the flashes coming from the street below. He quickly pulled on his boots and fastened his bullet belt and bandolier before heading to the balcony outside his room. Rifle in hand he looked to the street below, there was screaming he saw several of the townspeople running towards the train station which had a train ready to disembark.

Jack tried to get the attention of one of them but they refused to acknowledge him. He looked up the street the other way, his eyes widened at what he saw, a sight which he had never hoped to see again.

The Undead had risen once again.

A loud groan came from behind Jack; he spun around coming face to face with several Undead. He began shooting them all with great speed and accuracy, riddling them with bullets the fell to the floor, he ran back into his room to quickly retrieve his hat and coat before whistling for his horse. He saw the black horse running through the crowd of Undead which were paying it very little interest.

Quickly he leapt over the rail and onto the horse's back. He rushed the horse towards the moving train. One of the cars had a flatbed; there were several people on it shooting at the Undead to no avail. Jack charged towards the train which was now gathering speed. Jack knew he had to get on the train. He had the horse on a straight path towards the flat bed before the horse jumped onto the car, startling the people on board.

"Mr. Marston! Thank goodness you made it out," a young woman exclaimed while "You can help us."

"I don't know how much help I can be but I'll try. Where's the train heading?"

"To Mercer Station, thne we'll be taking stage coaches to the Fort." Said a man jack recognised as on of the Marshall's deputies.

"Good plan." Jack said, sitting by on a crate. He rubbed his neck where the scars of where he had once been bitten by his mother remained; hidden beneath a red bandana his father used to wear.