[i]Vampires, zombies, witches.[/i]

A few minutes into the meeting and it was already shaping out to be one of the strangest things Merrick had ever stood witness to. The body the preacher had showed them looked like a badly emancipated human - almost like the starved survivors of a long siege. In fact, he had actually felt certain that the preacher was a man gone mad who had made the whole story about vampires up just to attract more people to the town. However, that theory quickly went to hell when the man with the red eyes seemingly 'awakened' the corpse with just a few drops of his blood. Merrick was still skeptical; for all he knew, the man and the preacher were in cahoots, but even as he told himself that, he knew that it was unlikely. The man had only just showed up, and the preacher did not seem to know anyone apart from Eliza and the sheriff.

In any case, Merrick's attention had been largely grabbed by the new arrival - Buckle, that was his name. He acted erratically, like a man who was on the very edge of slipping into insanity. It was a nature that Merrick had the misfortune of knowing well. He had lost count of the number of young soldiers who suffered from unending and relentless nightmares after their first few battles. Some recovered, others took their own lives and a handful simply disappeared in the dead of night, much like what Merrick had done. Most, however, lived the rest of their lives as a broken shell of a man.

"The army won't do us any good, mate." Merrick said in response to Buckle and nodded to Eliza. "She's got it right, the army has more things to worry about than whatever trouble Woop Woop found itself in." He neglected to tell them that that was the exact reason why he had came to Paradise, aside from the offer of a job. They did not need to know that he was a deserter. "Besides, anyone they send would probably just be a weekend warrior, and they're about as useful as tits on a bull." He said. From his experience, militiamen were only effective when fighting in a place and against an enemy they were comfortable with. Against the paranormal here in Paradise? They would most likely turn and bolt the first chance they got.

He knew that he had probably used too much Australian slang in his words, but it was at least a lot better than when he had first stepped off the boat. Back then, no one could understand a word he was saying, and even after close to a decade living in America, he still enjoyed using it. It reminded him of home and was like a slice of Australia he could carry on his person and never lose. He looked back to the preacher, then at the sheriff. "I'm ready to head out on your go." He said. They could send him against the witches or the zombies, Merrick was confident that the .577 shot fired by the Snider-Enfield would put a quick end to them, and a quick end to anyone standing behind.