Plague Dragons: Dragons West, #3

By J. A. Johnson

The year is 1874. Vince Browder is about to unleash a plague- and pestilence-breathing dragon upon an unsuspecting young nation. All that stands between him and the ultimate land grab is young Matthew Graham and a dragon of his own named Crazy Squirrel. Against seemingly impossible odds, Matthew is joined by a band of heroic individuals including the legendary Baxter Fleming; The Miracle Marksman, Francisco Ochoa; The Bolo Kid, Americus Freeman, Cordelia McKenna and, of course, Bax's faithful horse, Turquoise Bill. In a quest that will take our heroes from a quiet Michigan town, across a vast continent, to the twisted heart of a dead volcano deep in Death Valley, the adventure never stops.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. A. Johnson
• Release date: Oct 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215324264

Book preview

PREVIOUSLY

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After Matthew Graham’s parents and grandfather go missing, a mysterious crate arrives. Inside is what can only be described as a strange ostrich egg. When the forces behind his family’s disappearance arrive to claim the boy and the egg, an old family friend intervenes: a cowboy named, Baxter Flemming, the famed Miracle Marksman, with his fabled six-shooters, Mani and Sol.

With Bax’s help. Matthew escapes with the egg and a letter his parents had sent to the cowboy. They embark on a perilous journey west, pursued by the ghastly Undertaker Man and his stryvog; demon-like creatures that fear nothing but the light and are driven by one purpose. Find the egg.

Along they way they meet, Cordelia McKenna, owner of the riverboat, the Aurora and the M & H Circus. A trick shot artist and staring act of the M & H. Seeing that her new friends need to escape the local authorities, Cordelia offers Matthew and Bax passage on the Aurora.

They may have escaped one tangle, but they will soon learn that stryvog are are relentless and they are never far behind.

In yet another attempt to claim the egg, the Undertaker Man and his demonic stryvog attack the Aurora, sending the famous riverboat circus to the bottom of the Missouri River. Matthew, Bax, and Cordelia set out with the mysterious egg for St. Louis, where the West begins. There they hope to rendezvous with friends of Bax’s; Francisco Ochoa, aka the Bolo Kid, and Americus Freeman, wielder of Magna, the Unbreakable Blade.

Shortly after arriving, they intercept a telegram intended for Oliver Dardy is coming to meet with the Undertaker Man. Hoping to catch Dardy in town, our heroes split up to monitor the two possible meeting points specified in the telegram.

Drawn to the egg, the stryvog corner Matthew and Cordelia in the city’s dark back alleys. They are helped with the arrival of a mysterious stranger, the Bolo Kid.

The heroes regroup at the Liberty Hotel where, to their amazement, the egg finally hatches and a creature unlike any they have ever imagined is born.

CHAPTER 1

Your friends are just as I imagined they would be, Cordelia said.

Bax grinned. Is that good or bad? He was walking to the room where Matthew was supposed to be sleeping.

Cordelia followed him. A good thing, of course, but it's got me thinking.

Bax paused at the door and looked at her as she stopped beside him. He could already tell, by the way she'd said it, that he wasn't going to like what she was thinking.

And that is? he ventured.

I've read every book about the adventures of the Graham family and all of their friends which, as you know includes you, Americus, Francisco, and a score of others. But the author of the stories, Irving Cooper, doesn't appear in any of them. Isn't that queer?

Why should it be? Bax said. Cooper is a yarn spinner - of questionable talent if you ask me - who probably lives in New York City or some such civilized place. I'd be surprised if the man's ever set foot this side of the Appalachians, and I doubt very much if he's ever adventured with the Grahams, let alone experienced anything worth committing to the printed page.

Bax reached for the doorknob, ready to look in on Matthew, eager for a change of subject. Cordelia stopped him, her hand on his. He felt a tingle race up his arm. He saw her eyes widen slightly and a hint of color brightened her cheeks. She drew her hand away, refocused herself, and said. That’s where I think you're wrong.

Do you always think so much?

Say what you like, Baxter Fleming, but if you ask me, not only has Irving Cooper been in plenty of harrowing situations, he's probably taken part in almost every one that he's written about.

Bax turned from the door. He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and plastered as dubious a look on his face as he could muster. Now how in tarnation do you figure that?

It would be impossible for an author to write about real people with such accuracy without knowing his subjects. Speculation wouldn't explain it. Even you have to admit that.

He shrugged. Maybe, but if this writer were a friend of ours - never mind as close a friend as you're implying - don't you think that one of us would have mentioned him by now?

Cordelia nodded emphatically, And that's my point exactly.

Well, there's a simple enough reason we haven’t mentioned him, Cordelia. We don't know the man. He turned the doorknob and started to ease the door open.

Oh, you know the man. If you think you can fool me, think again.

Bax paused before stepping into the room, flashing her his most charming smile. I believe you do enough thinkin' for the both of us.

***

The door creaked faintly as it was pushed open, and Bax peeked into the room. The intrusion was enough. The dragon pup hissed sharply, unfurled its wings and shot from the bed straight to Matthew's shoulders. The critter glared at Bax as though challenging him to mess with the boy.

Easy there, little fella, I’m a frien...

Suddenly ignoring Bax, the hatchling’s gaze shot toward the window, and the critter went still as stone.

Bax followed its gaze, an uneasy feeling welling in his stomach. His right hand drifted down to Sol just as the window exploded inward. Amid the shattering glass and splintering wood, a dark form crashed to the floor. Even as the shape rose before them, both Bax and Cordelia's pistols were in their hands and aimed at the intruder.

It's Francisco! Matthew exclaimed from the floor on the far side of the bed, his voice a bit muffled by the dragon which had anxiously twined itself about his head and shoulders.

Bax nodded, recognizing his friend and lowering his pistols. Francisco stood up, shaking glass from his poncho. Amigo, he said to Bax, I believe they are intending to come in through the window. The Argentinean had barely uttered the words before they proved true. He reeled as a stryvog flew through the window and slammed into him.

Bax's hands were but blurs as he raised and fired both six-guns, riddling the creature with burning lead. Matthew stood up nervously, one hand on the still jittery dragon which was once again draped across his shoulders. Bax moved to help Francisco to his feet. As Ochoa stood for the second time, Bax looked him over for any obvious injuries that the stryvog might have inflicted. Not seeing any blood, he asked, Are you hurt?

Ochoa's expression became wounded. Just my pride, amigo.

Cordelia raised her police revolver and moved to the window. She cautiously peered out into the night. Where is Americus? she asked.

Ochoa shook his hat, which sent a few more pieces of broken glass tinkling to the floor. I do not know, señorita. We had just stepped outside when el criatura infernal there grabbed me from behind and delivered me to you.

Bax's jaw tightened. He didn't like the thought of his friend out there alone with God only knew how many stryvog. Furthermore, he liked it even less that there had been no sounds of a fight, no shots from Americus' rifle.

We should go find him, Matthew suggested.

Bax looked over at him, standing calm and collected between the bed and the wall, the lizard hugging his neck. The boy was definitely a Graham. He hadn't realized he was smiling until Matthew smiled back.

The little man is right, he said to the others. We can't stay here anyway; the stryvog would just box us in. 

And where do we go? Ochoa asked. The entire night lies between us and the dawn, and I have a feeling the stryvog will not give us a moment’s rest.

Cordelia moved to the left of the window frame. Bax heard the hammers of her revolvers click, ready to fire. Don't think about it too long, Bax, because the stryvog aren't going to wait. Even before she finished speaking, she was shooting into the night.

Bax heard the agonized screech of a stryvog, a sure sign that her aim had been true.

He drew Matthew close to his side. First we find Americus, and then we find your Mr. Chen.

They moved toward the door. Stay close to me, pard, stay beside me or behind me, but don't get in front of me, all right? 

Matthew nodded.

While Cordelia and Ochoa kept an eye on the gaping window, Bax opened the door a sliver and peered out into the front room. It looks clear. At least our luck hasn't completely soured, and that's sayin' somethin'.

Holding one of his Colts close to his shoulder, he led the way. Last from the bedroom, Ochoa pulled the door shut. Bax pointed to one of the chairs at the table. The Argentinean nodded, wedging the chair between the doorknob and the floor.

Bax went to the front door and put his ear to it. He could hear a commotion of sorts on the other side, but it sounded faint, distant. If they were quick about, they could gather their stuff and slip away before the stryvog even realized they were gone. Don't be a fool Fleming, he chided himself, a little good luck was one thing, but the amount of luck they needed always came with a price.

He glanced back to see Cordelia stuffing whatever she could into the carpetbag. The sound of tearing fabric drew his attention to Ochoa. The gaucho had drawn his facon and was using the knife to slice up his spare ponchos. Bax nodded appreciatively at Ochoa's quick thinking, as the Argentinean slipped the pared-down garment over Matthew’s head, more or less concealing the otherwise highly conspicuous reptilian-something-or-other. 

Cordelia handed the heavily laden carpetbag back to Matthew, whose eyes widened at the weight of it. Next, she gathered up all the cartridge belts and stray rounds she could.  Bax accepted several of the belts, crisscrossing them over his shoulders.

Is that everything? he whispered.

Everything we can carry and still be able to run, Cordelia stated.

All righty then. I reckon our first objective will be the front doors. We'll stop there and try to get a bead on Americus' whereabouts.

To Matthew, Bax said, Stay close, like I said, pard. 

Matthew nodded, his small face a mask of nervous determination. Then let's go. 

As Matthew stepped closer to the door, the hatchling went rigid, hissing like an angry snake, peeping its jagged face through the collar of Matthew's new poncho. Bax regarded the dragon; it was acting just as it had before the stryvog had hurled Ochoa in through the window. I reckon that means we're expected.

The longer we wait, the worse it's likely to get, Cordelia pointed out.

She was right, of course, and so, with Matthew and the others behind him, Bax opened the door. The sounds, which had been faint and distant before, were now loud and close at hand. Down the length of the hall, apparently roused by the growing ruckus, he saw a few curious faces peering from some of the other doors. Other than that the coast appeared clear of stryvog. He wondered how close the source of the noise actually was as he stepped onto the third floor balcony. The answer came at him in flurry of wings and claws. He shoved Matthew back through the door and heard the hatchling hiss.

Bax leaned against the closed door, holding it shut even as the stryvog hurled themselves against it. He was trying to form some course of action, some means of escape when Matthew tugged at his sleeve.

Bax! There’s smoke coming in under the door! the boy exclaimed. He pointed to the foot of the door.