Pull up a sittin' iron, fella, and I'll spin you a yarn, about a quartet of mean hombres and the too-smart-fer-his-own-good Colonel who figured he could rip off them and the Union Army, and about the way they took their revenge on his low-down carcass. The year was 1871, but the history was not our own...

Fella name of Clayton McFarland was a Colonel in the Union Army, stationed out in Kansas. An' one day he done got wind of a secret shipment of Army gold, coming in from California. So, figgerin' he's done his bit for his country an' it's time he settled hisself down with a healthier pension than the Army's offerin' him, he gathers four o' the hardest, baddest sons o' bitches under his command that he reckons he can trust with something like this, and tells 'em the plan. They'll split the gold five ways and live out the rest o' their days however they want.

So the plan goes off without a hitch, and they bury the gold in an outta-the-way spot, and report back to the Colonel. Knowin' full well that the Army ain't gonna take this lyin' down, he tells the fellas that the best thing for them to do is to head down South into Reb territory as spies. He can cook the books, tell the Army they were gone when the robbery happened, and they can come back when the heat's blown over. So off they go, infiltrate a Reb unit and just lay low.

Now the Colonel's been planning on this all along. If there's something better than a passel o' gold, it's five passels o' gold. So he leaks word to Johnny Reb about the four spies in their midst, and before they know what's up, the four fellas are caught, and strung up on a hangin' tree like common cattle rustlers. As the horses are whupped away and the ropes go tight, them fellas've got Colonel McFarland's name on their lips, an' all they want is a shot at him - but it's far too late for that, and they swing. The Colonel waits a while, retires honourably from the Army, digs up the gold, and in time-honoured tradition, heads west. He buys himself a newspaper office in an old ghost town called Gabriel and sets himself up a company printin' playing cards. The town takes off again - so much so that he renames it Ressurection - and he appoints himself mayor, and lives a comfortable life.

One thing he wants more'n anything is to expand his card company. So, amongst other advertisin' gimmicks, every so often he puts a golden card into fifteen different decks coming out of his factory, and lets it be known on the back of the packs that the folks who find the golden cards are invited to a grand poker tournament in his town, with a prize of $15,000 goin' to the winner. Naturally this gets folks a-hoppin' and talkin' about his cards all over, and they buy more of 'em, which is just what he wants. O' course, he can't afford to just go handin' over 15 big uns every time, so he cheats, and makes it so's he always wins. By that time, the job is done, his advertisin' is out there. And so time goes by.

Now the year is 1876. In four shallow graves under a wicked-lookin' tree down New Mexico way, somethin's stirrin' in those four fellas. Somethin' not o' this Earth, and somethin' that sure as shootin' oughta stay outta our realm. Nonetheless, these things reckon it's time those four got themselves up outta their graves and got their chance at gettin' the Colonel back fer what he done. Can you imagine what it's like to wake up five years after you died, buried underground, with yer thoughts o' revenge burnin' like they never left off? Now imagine knowin' where he is, what he's doin', everything you need, and no explanation for how you know this. Add in the fact that when you claw your way up to the surface, your buddies are there as well, and all four o' you gotcherselves powers you can't explain, powers straight outta Hell and fueled by hate and demons.

Now, as to what happens next... well, that part ain't been writ yet...