It's a crisp evening in Cherokee country 1889. This whole area will one day be absorbed

into the state of Oklahoma, but for now, it's miles of low hills and lush plains untouched

by the western expansion that's gone on around it. Horse hooves pat along a dirt road

in the evening air, amplified by the vacuum of silence in this sanctuary of pre-colonial

paradise. Belstar, a 40-winger-old, three-time married, proud Southern woman, is heading

home from a native dinner and drinks with friends in the city. She enjoys the finer things

in life from time to time, but she lives out here in the boonies, off of US soil, for

a reason. She may not look it, but she's one of the most famous outlaws in the country,

but not by choice, and not right now. Right now, she's just bell.

She loves these peaceful rides back through the endless plains. Her whole life has been

dictated by other people's expectations. Out here, there's not a single soul to answer

to you for miles in either direction. She's completely alone. But wait, not tonight.

There's someone coming up the road in the opposite direction. Who could that be?

As the two horses cross paths, Bel recognizes a familiar face. Someone she doesn't like.

She continues down the road, cursing under her breath. What are they doing out here?

As she does the math in her head, she begins to realize that this isn't a simple coincidence.

As the little hairs in the back of her neck start to stand up, she flaps her reins

in fear too late. The crack of gunfire splits the silent air, knocking Bel off her

horse. As the attacker approaches the wounded woman, holding a gun over her face, it's

difficult to know what Bel's star is thinking during her final moments on Earth. Beyond

the terror, it's safe to say that there must have been pangs of annoyance. This was not

supposed to be her life.

...