Deadman's Trace

Deadman's Trace was a town the desert had already half-claimed. Once a roaring gold camp where fortunes were made and lost in a single drunken night, it now clung to life along a single rutted street of sun-bleached false-front buildings, their paint peeled and their windows cracked. The mines had played out years ago, leaving behind empty shafts, a boot-hill crowded with unmarked graves, and a silence that pressed down harder than the midday heat. A lone windmill creaked in the distance, t...