A rolling tumbleweed shrouded in dust blew across the empty road. The girl was only fifteen, but she’d already killed eight men. She took the rolled cannabis cigarette from behind her ear and lit a match. Inhaling the smoke in public was a dangerous thing with that hanging judge around these parts. However, from the looks of this shithole, there wasn’t any law for at least two days’ ride anyhow. 
There didn’t seem to be any people either. She felt her mood improve as she stood in the dirt with not a single horse in sight and smoked the whole cigarette until there was nothing left for later.
The girl had walked a long way, and the sun would be down in another couple of hours. Her boots were caked in dirt and blood and the long corduroy pants dripped with sweat. Other than a cotton shirt just dark enough to avoid horny cowboys seeing through it she didn’t have any other clothes to her name. Well, except for old Karl, but her cowboy hat was more of an appendage than a piece of clothing ever since her Pa died.
Good and stoned, she shook some mud off her boots and walked into the godforsaken camp. The words Cedar Pit were carved into the waist-high wooden sign, but it wasn’t no town she’d ever heard of before. No matter though. It had to be the last stop in Arkansas before she hit Fort Smith.
It wasn’t no town though. She sloshed in the mud towards some tents up ahead. There was about four on the right and a couple on her left. No humans in sight made her nervous. She put a finger on her six-shooter and stopped about ten yards from the tents. The Smith & Wesson Model-3 was holstered on her hip, but she unbuttoned the hold on it and got into a crouching posture, eyeing her surroundings carefully
There was nothing but flat land all around her, except for a small hill up ahead about hundred yards or more. No horses neither. She crept toward the tents and silently removed the pistol from the leather pouch, raising it up to shoulder height. The girl squinted in the full sun, anticipating an ambush from those blue and red tents directly in front of her now.
No movement inside and she noticed the flaps were wide open. Opening the flaps and peering inside, there wasn’t nobody asleep or dead inside them. She scratched her head and tucked her long brown hair back into Old Karl. Her eyes strained to see in any direction, but staring East, she could finally see the small mounds of dirt. They were the first freshly dug graves she had seen since she was twelve.
