Night had started to fall by the time Alain and Danielle rode their horses right to the outskirts of town. They left the horses there, out of view behind a nearby rocky outcropping, then began to make their way into town. It was slow going, made worse by Alain's wounded leg.

"Are you sure you should be walking on it?" Danielle whispered to him.

"Probably not," Alain hissed between gritted teeth. "But I'm not leaving my friends behind. If they're in town, I'm getting them out, even if it kills me."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever-"

"If you think it's so stupid, then don't come," Alain pointed out. "I'm not forcing you. If you want, you can stay behind with the horses."

"Hmph. And take my chances with the desert heat?" Danielle crossed her arms, then shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Then I guess we're doing this, then. Stick close to me, and for the love of God, don't shoot anyone unless you absolutely have to. The last thing we need is to draw the whole fucking town onto our position. You got that?"

"I've got it, I've got it… let's just keep moving."

Together, they crept into town, Alain looking all around as they sidled up to the rear of a nearby building. Whatever town they'd ended up in, it was very small – just another of the myriad frontier towns that seemed to pop up overnight out in the wilderness. By Alain's estimate, this town could have held maybe a few hundred people at most. He was about to wonder where all the townspeople were when the all-too-familiar stench of decay his his nose.

"Urgh…" Danielle gasped out, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth and nose as she turned green. "What is that stench?" she asked, her voice coming out muted.

"Carrion," Alain whispered back. From what he could tell, it was coming from inside a nearby building; he leaned out and peered through the window, his eyes narrowing when he saw several bodies lying in a dried pool of blood inside. As far as he could see, they had been shot in the back of the head execution-style.

"Guess we know what happened to most of the townspeople…" he muttered. "Danielle."

"Yes?"

"It probably goes without saying at this point, but treat everyone in this town like they're hostile, whether they're wearing robes or not. Something tells me that there's nothing normal about this town, at least not anymore."

Danielle blinked, but nodded all the same. Seeing that she seemed to get it, Alain motioned for her to follow him.

"Come on," he said, "let's start looking around."

XXX

The two of them left their hiding spot from behind the first building and began to move through town. Alain kept one hand on his holstered revolver as they went; it was slow going thanks to his leg, but it was still some progress, and in any case, there weren't very many people out and about.

"Where is everyone…?" Danielle quietly wondered as they ducked into a nearby alley together and peered out, looking around for any signs of life. Alain saw a figure in a black robe down the street, but the man didn't seem to realize they were there; he simply stood on the corner, enjoying a cigarette.

"Good question," Alain replied. "I killed five of them earlier, not to mention all the ones that were on the train. And considering they took down this entire town, there has to be more of them than that. The only question is where they are now."

Alain kept his eyes on the man down the street. He watched as the cultist took a drag from his cigarette, embers illuminating his face. He was younger man, around Alain's age; stocky, with a full beard and a receding hairline. Alain's first instinct was to draw his revolver and put a bullet through the man's head for what him and his friends had done to this town, but he held himself back.

It would do him no good to compromise their position so soon, not to mention that if anything, he was better off trying to get some answers from this man instead.

With that in mind, Alain looked around for something to use, and eventually spied a small rock. He picked it up and tested it by tossing it up and down a few times.

"What are you doing?" Danielle asked.

"Getting his attention," Alain replied.

"What?! I thought you wanted to keep things quiet-"

"I do. If this goes well, nobody will know we're here except him."

"But-"

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Alain didn't wait for her to keep complaining, and threw the rock. It sailed through the air, across the street, and impacted against the wood of another building with a dull thud.

The sudden noise had the desired effect – the cultist instantly perked up, one hand drifting to his holstered gun.

"Who's out there?" he called. "Henry? That you, brother?"

The cultist began to creep towards where the noise had come from; as he did so, Alain stepped out of cover, moving as quietly as he possibly could, following along with the man. Every step one his bad leg made him wince and bite back a pained hiss, but Alain was able to close the distance without making a sound.

He pulled his revolver, thumbing the hammer back in the same motion, and pressed it flush with the base of the man's skull.

"Don't move," Alain warned. "I've got my gun pressed against your brain stem. One pull of the trigger, and you'll be out like a puppet with its strings cut. You won't even be able to scream on your way down."

"That so?" the cultist challenged. "You really think that if you shoot me, you'll be able to get away?"

"Can you afford to take that chance?" Alain's gaze drifted to the holstered gun on the man's hip. "Nice piece. Schofield?"

"Yeah."

"Get rid of it, and be quick about it. And if you even think of trying to draw that thing and point it at me, just know that I'll have already put a hole in your head before you've even cleared leather."

The cultist let out an irritated growl, but did as he was told, dropping the revolver in the sand below. Once that was done, Alain pressed the muzzle of the gun against his neck.

"Into the alley," he commanded. "Now."

The cultist didn't resist, following along with Alain's command. The two of them stepped back into the alley, where Danielle was waiting for them; the man couldn't help but pause when he saw her.

"Who the hell are you people?" he demanded. "Are you from the train?"

"I'm asking the questions here," Alain commanded. He holstered his gun, drawing his knife in the same motion and pressing it flush against the cultist's jugular. "Let's start with an easy one – we're looking for two people, a tall man in a suit and a short blonde woman. See anyone like that recently?"

"Why the fuck would I tell you anything? I-"

Alain responded by making a shallow cut across the man's throat. He gasped as a bit of blood spattered against the nearby wall, and tried to bring a hand up to cover the wound, only for Alain to intercept, forcing his arm down.

"Let it bleed," Alain commanded, his eyes narrowing. "Well, looks like someone cut themselves shaving this morning. Don't you hate it when that happens? Now, admittedly, I'm no barber, but I think I can cover this up. Maybe just a bit off the top…"

"Wait, wait," the cultist managed to croak out. "I… yes, I think one of them mentioned finding a blonde woman in one of the train cars – said something about her being a vampire?"

Alain's heart skipped a beat. "What did you do with her?"

He pressed the knife against the man's throat once more for emphasis; the cultist winced.

"She's in the basement of the temple – the old church!" he gasped. "I swear, I'm not lying!"

"So she's still alive?"

"Of course! S-she's sacred, after all…"

Alain quirked an eyebrow at that. "Sacred? You think she's sacred somehow?"

"All vampires are. She's a daughter of Lilith – a child of night."

Alain's brow furrowed. He'd heard the name Lilith before, back when he'd first interacted with the Tribunal. He couldn't recall the specifics of it, since it had been several months ago, but he was at least familiar with the name in a passing sense.

"And why are you keeping her alive?" he questioned.

"L-like I said, vampires are to be revered."

He fell silent after that. Alain felt a vein pulse in his forehead. Clearly, that was the most he was going to get out of this cultist, at least as far as Sable was concerned.

"And the big man in the suit?" Alain asked. "You haven't seen him around?"

"Not at all."

That was a silver lining, he supposed – if nothing else, Az had apparently managed to get away. Alain didn't know where he'd ended up, but anywhere else had to be better than here.

"Look, I've answered your questions," he cultist suddenly said. "So are you going to let me-"

Alain replied by jabbing the blade of his knife directly into the base of the man's skull. Instantly, the cultist fell silent, going limp in his grasp; Alain unceremoniously dropped the body to the floor, then cleaned his knife on the man's clothes before motioning for Danielle to follow him.

"Let's go check out that old church," he told her.

Danielle said nothing, instead eyeing the fresh corpse warily before following after Alain as he stepped out of the alley.

XXX

It wasn't hard to find the old church – it was the only building in town that was lit up bright enough to see for a mile at night. Of course, calling it a church at this point was being generous.

"What the hell…?" Danielle muttered, fear creeping into her tone.

"Yes, I believe you're right," Alain observed.

While it had once been a church, it had since been desecrated by the cultists. Latin runes had been inscribed upon its doors in what appeared to be blood, and inverted pentagrams had been drawn across the church itself. Alain couldn't help but feel his blood boil at the sight of it.

He would be the first to admit that he wasn't exactly a pious man, but a small-town church like this was supposed to be a place for family and friends to gather and worship. Instead, it had been utterly deconsecrated by a group of murderers.

"I call thee, of Hell, to burn all things and grant us life anew," Danielle said.

Alain whipped around to face her in surprise. "What?"

"That's what the Latin on the church says."

"You can read that?"

"I'm a senator's daughter, remember? The perks of a classical education… I mean, if we can call understanding that a perk…"

Movement from inside the temple caught Alain's attention. The doors to the temple suddenly flew open, and a throng of cultists stepped out; Alain counted at least two dozen of them, mostly in black robes, though a few were in white. The one that really caught his eye, however, was the older-looking man dressed in blood red. He looked to be in his early forties, and was tall, standing around Alain's height. His head had been shaved, though he had a black well-kept beard and mustache adorning his face.

And as he walked, he carried a familiar-looking back tucked under his arm.

Alain's eyes narrowed at the sight of it. He was going to have to get some answers from Az at some point, but for now, there were other priorities.

After a few minutes, the cultists disappeared into the town. Alain motioned for Danielle to follow him.

"Wait, you can't be serious!" she said. "You really want to go into that… that devil-worshiping building?"

"First off, it's a building. It's not alive, so by definition, it can't worship the devil," Alain pointed out. "Second off, if Sable might be in there, then yes, I'm going to go check it out. You're welcome to stay-"

Danielle paled at that, and she shook her head. "Don't… don't leave me alone," she begged.

"Alright, then," Alain said, drawing his revolver as he stood up from behind the rock where they'd been hiding.

"Stick close to me," he warned her as the two of them began to advance towards the ruined church.