Splinters followed Merrick to investigate the sudden gunshots. Judging from the sound, they were from the grave yard and that meant they were getting some form of assistance in killing the creatures. And when they got there, there it was: Somebody in a cloak with two guns, fighting the zombies. If it weren't for the fact she had guns and was shooting at the undead, he would've thought she was a witch raising the dead.

Splinters looked at the cloaked figure with a gun, fighting against the horde of the undead as they rised from the ground. He was going to say something, but Merrick had yelled before he could. Splinters stayed silent as he watched Merrick shoot the foul, undead creature in the arm. Splinters would have chuckled slightly when he saw Merricks' face when the damn thing didn't die--Or at least, didn't stop--when it was shot.

He took out his Winchester 1895 rifle, aimed with the sights and proceeded to shoot one bastard in the head. Another. Another. Another. Another.
Five down. Reload.
Gunshot. Gunshot. Gunshot.
Eight down. Reload.