Phantoms of Phoenix: A Jericho Sims Tale (The Adventures of Jericho Sims Book 3)

by McCurley, T. Mike

  He touched gingerly at the bandage that still rested on the back of his head. The bruising from there had spread around to his face, leaving Jericho looking suspiciously like a raccoon. Still, his spirits were high.

  "I have suffered from a crisis of faith before, Jericho," Prescott confessed, echoing the statement he had made in the cemetery. "I thought perhaps the Almighty had abandoned me. I have seen now that nothing could be further from the truth."

  "I can agree with that," Jericho said. "I watched grass bloom at your touch. That's pretty impressive."

  "I was able to feel His hand work through me. I want people to know that feeling, to know the love that He has for us all."

  "Then you tell 'em. I wouldn't go tellin' 'em how you know, but just that you do."

  Prescott laughed, something he had done a great deal more of since meeting Jericho. "I cannot imagine that conversation going well."

  "Yup. Folks would get mighty tetchy when you tell 'em you done spit in the eye of an actual demon, don't ya figure?"

  "Indeed."

  They sat in silence for a minute, smoke drifting up from the cigar Jericho was holding - an impulse purchase by the reverend for his friend.

  "I don't get it," Jericho said. "I mean, I know there's weird shit out there and all, but why me? How come all this happened to me?"

  "The Lord works in mysterious ways, Jericho. Have you considered that you may be the servant that He needs most?"

  "Now, see? That's just stretching it. I ain't what anybody needs."

  Prescott waved a hand. "You were exactly what Nancy Hawkins needed."

  "Yeah. Sorry it turned out the way it did for her."

  "She gave herself to you in a way no one else has known," Prescott told him. "Be not sorrowful, for she is not lost. Her willing sacrifice has brought her riches of which Solomon could never dream. She sits on the right hand of God, and one day, you may see her again."

  "I'd certainly like that, padre, but --"

  "Yes, I remember. No one can redeem you," Prescott said, the last portion voiced in a mocking tone while waving his hands and rolling his eyes. "You are not so far gone that you cannot be saved, my friend."

  Jericho chuckled softly, smoke drifting from his nostrils. "Well, with men like you rooting for me, preacher, I guess I might have a chance after all."

  The two men spent the next thirty minutes talking quietly, with very little mentioned of what they had gone through. They had been there and there was no need to rehash it. Both of them would carry the scars of that battle, physical and otherwise, for the rest of their days.

  "So you think that your best bet lies to the east?" Prescott asked.

  "I was tracking him easterly when I ran across the fellow what told me to check with Burke and Hare. I reckon that's probably a good plan. If I'm gonna find anything, it'll be that way."

  "And when you find him?"

  Jericho's eyes glittered menacingly. "Trust me, padre, that's something you don't wanna know."

  "Well, with luck, you will encounter no more spirits."

  "If I do, I know just who to come find."

  "I shall indeed be waiting," Prescott said. He stood from the table, mirroring Jericho's action, and the two men shook hands.

  "Preacher, y'all keep your powder dry. Don't make me come back here to clean up that cemetery again."

  "I have a trio of my brethren from the south inbound on the next train. Together we are going to spend as long as it takes to pray over every grave, to bless every stone. Nothing of this sort will happen here again."

  "Well, I know my luck," Jericho said, butting out the cigar in the glass ashtray. "I'm staying out of boneyards for a while."

  "If you come back this way, I would hope that you look me up. I will buy you a drink."

  "I'll buy one for your brother," Jericho said. They looked down to the table where the shot and beer sat in front of Prescott. With a smile, Jericho reached for it and lifted it high.

  “Here’s to…”

  “Augustus,” the preacher whispered.

  “Augustus Prescott,” Jericho continued. “May your rest be undisturbed, and I can only hope that you were even half the man that your brother is. If so, you were a wonder indeed.”

  He tipped back the glass and drank, the sharpness of the whiskey working its way down his throat with no subtlety at all. He placed the glass on the table and looked at the grinning face of the reverend.

  “He was a great man,” Prescott said.

  “So are you, preacher.”

  Once more, they shook hands, and Jericho stepped from the cantina into the heat of the street. The sun blazed down on him. A hot wind had swept in from the south, and clouds of dust blew down the street, scouring the surfaces. Jericho snapped up the collar of his duster and pulled the bandana around his neck up to cover the lower half of his face. With a farewell nod to Prescott, he grabbed the reins that were wrapped around a hitching post and stuck his boot into the stirrup.

  "Gideon, let's go for a walk," he said, urging the Appaloosa into a turn and then heading down the center of the street. His saddlebags bulged with food to get him through the next few days, and the biscuits and gravy he had just eaten left a warm, full feeling radiating through him. The ache in his head was still a nagging thing, but he knew he would heal as he always had.

  Prescott had remained true to his new friend, contacting Burke instead of a physician, and they were able to repair the laceration to Jericho's head. Like most head wounds, it bled far more than one might expect for the size of the incision. All parties involved were pleasantly surprised when Jericho had been cleaned up and the actual damage was surveyed. Most of what he suffered from was the bruising. The cuts he had sustained were minor in comparison. Added to the fall from the window, he looked as though someone had gone to work on him with a stick. His body was covered with contusions.

  They rode through most of Phoenix with no real interactions beyond the occasional tip of a hat, and Jericho cut away from the main thoroughfares after a short distance stuck behind slow-moving wagons. He moved through alleys and up thin, poorly-maintained streets. It was usually easier this way, and he found that the company he encountered -- if any -- was more familiar than the dandies that often traveled the main streets.

  "I tell you what, Gideon. I got one hell of a story for you," he said, leaning forward to pat the horse on the neck. He could almost swear he heard a throaty chuckle from the long knife with the newly engraved name of Nancy on it.

  ###

  Thank you for your interest in my story! If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to swing by the retailer from which you purchased it and leave a review. Reviews make it easier for readers to decide what stories they want to enjoy, and they make authors happy! Seriously, it lets the author know when their work has been appreciated, and makes it more likely that new work will appear soon. If you dig the story, feel free to say so.

  Also available from the author:

  Firedrake Volume One: Meet Francis Drake – your average seven foot dragon cop with an attitude, sent to hunt down the worst of the metahumans known as geneboosters. Drake is the one the government calls to do the jobs no one else wants, and he’ll keep on doing them because every mission completed means more time spent with his brother, a booster in his own right — but in government custody. Follow along as he battles criminals, meets legends, and pisses off his boss in spectacular style.

  Firedrake Volume Two: Drake returns to service in this second volume, standing beside the legendary Patriot to crush a riot at the annual Lady Justice Day parade, fight the racist members of Humanity First, and become a television star. Since nothing good can happen to Drake without the universe kicking him, a metahuman brawler places a worldwide bounty of Drake’s head, and the worst of the worst are out to collect! A trip to a shopping mall proves problematic when you’re a dragon, as our hero finds out.

  Firedrake Volume Three: Anger management classes for Drake? That's part of the punishment when Drake fin
ds himself in legal trouble after taking Soundstage on a trip to recover wanted fugitives. What will happen when the new "kinder, gentler" Drake returns to his job just in time for an attack on the safehouse where his brother lives?

  Tales of the Emergence: An anthology of short stories set in the world of Emergence. An indestructible man who fears only his own hidden nature. An angst-ridden teen handed the power of a god. A street cop learns what it means to be part of the team that responds to booster crimes. A night in the life of a boosted kid who wants to be a comic-book hero and encounters more than he expects. Many others that set the stage for the Firedrake series.

  The Good Fight: A free anthology of superhero fiction by the fine men and women of the Pen and Cape Society – of which I am a proud member. Contains an all-new Firedrake short story!

  The Good Fight 2: Villains: A new anthology from the men and women of the Pen and Cape Society. This one is for charity: James Hudnall, long-time comic author, is battling some issues, and the PCS has banded together to show that even Villains can help a good cause! Contains the origin of Professor Pain!

  Deep Space Mine: The horrors of global genocide witnessed by the occupants of a space station. Short and sweet, suited for a quick reading fix.

  Golem - A Jericho Sims tale: After witnessing the ritualistic murder of fellow soldiers in the last days of the Civil War, gunslinger Jericho Sims travels the world in search of their killer. Along the way, he stumbles into situations he never dreamed could exist. Following an encounter with a hostile native, Jericho is left with an arrow in his back and not much time to live. Will the scientist he encounters be his saving grace, or will the man's invention be the death of a town?

  Buried Treasure – A Jericho Sims Tale: Together with the native warrior Akocha, Jericho traverses Oklahoma Territory in an attempt to recover a stolen artifact capable of raising a mythical monster from its slumber. It looks as though the monster wants the artifact as well, and Jericho will have to rely on his wit and his blazing gun hand to save the day.

  Author Bio:

  T. Mike McCurley lives in a small city in Oklahoma, where indeed, “the wind comes sweeping” and all that. He began writing superhero prose on a whim one day, and found it enjoyable enough to continue. His short stories soon formed the backbone of what became known as the world of The Emergence, describing events and players in a world of metahumanity that began in 1963 and has continued to grow since. From there came the stories of the metahuman cop known as Firedrake, which has now filled three books, with a fourth in the works. The adventures of Jericho Sims began as a concept long ago that has finally come full circle. The wandering gunman seeking closure for the horror that befell him years ago has finally found a home on digital paper.

  T. Mike is also a founding member of the Pen and Cape Society, an online cabal of authors of superhero prose, and his Emergence setting will soon be featured in Lester Smith’s D6xD6 roleplaying game.

  In another (non-writing) life he has been a radiological monitor, an emergency medical technician, a private investigator, a videographer, a certified GLOCK armorer, and a dozen other things too varied and goofy to list in one space together.

  His works can be found linked at www.tmikemccurley.com and at the Pen and Cape Society, www.penandcapesociety.com .

  You can also sign up for his mailing list by clicking HERE. Hey, you get a free Firedrake story, too, so that’s a good thing!