Jericho & the Search: Jericho

By Paul Lawless

Nathan Jericho, bored with the life of his cantina in Vera Cruz, Mexico, decided to have some fun in planning one last bank robbery. His best friend and long-time partner, Marcus, was nowhere around, so he gathered three other men to help with the job and headed out.
While he was gone, two brothers and a hired gun by the name of Clay Bass arrived at the cantina in search of an older man the brothers wanted dead. In the process of killing their quarry, Isabella, the only woman Nathan trusted enough to run his cantina while he was away and also to call a friend, was gunned down by Bass. Nathan was furious when he returned and learned of her senseless death.
Nathan set out with one agenda, to track down and kill Clay Bass for the murder of his friend. On his way to Victoria, the town where he'd heard Bass was last seen, he found himself in a world of trouble. Shot in ambush and left for dead, Nathan regained consciousness to find himself being nursed back to health by Ralph and Sarah Wilson. The very man who'd ambushed Nathan turned out to be insane and dangerous to the Wilsons. Jericho soon found himself fighting for his life, and theirs, in more ways than one.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pale Horse Publications
• Release date: May 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224987580

Paul Lawless

Paul Lawless was born in Liverpool, England in 1958. He spends a lot of time volunteering for charities in Liverpool. He's a lover of animals, reading, writing novels and poems. He's also member of an Unitarian Church in Liverpool which takes up a lot of his time.

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Jericho & the Search

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Also By Paul Lawless

About the Author

About the Publisher

JERICHO

AND THE

SEARCH

––––––––

PAUL LAWLESS

Copyright © 2019 by Paul Lawless

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copywritten material.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

This book may contain views, premises, depictions, and statements by the author that are not necessarily shared or endorsed by Pale Horse Publications.

For information contact: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Michael Thomas

Cover design by Pale Horse Publications

Edited by Ann Mealler

Published by Pale Horse Publications

January 2022

10987654321

CHAPTER ONE

The Ride

A horse trotted across the yellowing grass in a rhythmical pattern, its rider, was a man named Nathan Jericho. At just shy of six feet tall, in his mid-thirties, Nathan rode towards the town of Victoria. He held the reins with determination, his anger leading his way for the past three days, ever since leaving behind the town of Vera Cruze, Mexico.

Nathan had left Vera Cruze on a Saturday morning, right after the funeral of Isabella, a dear and close friend who had been part of his life for over eight years. they’d met when she entered the Cantina La Opera, carrying the only thing she’d owned in the world, an old, worn out, grey bag. 

Seth had been in the cantina that day, trying to convince two old men to go home instead of having one more beer. The two had argued, in a good way, as Nathan watched on, bemused. The doors of the cantina opened and in walked Isabella, carrying her bag. Nathan and Seth had immediately fell platonically in love with her. When Nathan’s partner, Marcus, returned from Laredo two weeks later, Marcus had fallen amicably in love with Isabella.

A few days before Nathan had started out for Victoria, he’d returned to Vera Cruze to find that Isabella had been murdered. She’d been alone in the cantina, cleaning some glasses, with the exception of one customer, an old man who was a regular. The chair in which he’d sat was exactly in the middle of the cantina. He always drank only two glasses of beer, in two particular glasses, and he always kept his back to the door. The old man had come to Vera Cruze five years before, from where, nobody knew. He kept to himself and was always quiet. 

On the day Isabella was murdered, something wicked entered the cantina. Three dark shadows lingered in the doorway. Isabella stopped cleaning a glass when she noticed the three men enter. One of the men was named Johan Bowling, and he was accompanied by his brother, Kane, and another man by the name of Clay Bass. Bass was a notorious and vicious gunfighter who only killed for money. 

The three men moved into the cantina. Kane leaned against one of the double doors. Isabella watched the three nervously. The old customer did not turn around. Instead, he kept his back to the three men. Isabella moved her eyes from one man to the next before locking her eyes on the one who looked like a gun for hire. Even though the other two looked dangerous, this one in particular scared her. 

Remembering the description that Nathan had given once, Isabella recognized the gunman as being Clay Bass. She knew him to be notoriously fast and ruthless. Isabella wanted to move, but was glued to the floor in fear. 

Clay Bass locked his eyes on the old man sitting in the middle of the room, wondering if he was the man Clay had been hired to kill. Clay smiled, then encouraged Johan to follow him. The two moved towards the old man, who still did not turn to acknowledge them. Clay stopped when he reached the table. Johan came up beside him. 

That’s him, Johan whispered to the gunman. That’s the dirty coward. So, what are you waiting for?  My brother and I paid you a great deal of money to kill him. I want that old man to suffer, to die in complete agony. Now, pull your guns and empty every bullet you have into him.

Clay did not react to Johan’s rantings.

Isabella suddenly found her courage, wrapped in anger and a sense of repulsiveness. She moved from behind the bar and ambled towards the old man’s table. The old man still showed no reaction to the intrusion. He merely picked up his beer and drained the last few drops of the amber liquid. He sat the glass down on the table as Isabella implored her with her eyes to run.

Clay moved his right hand to the top of his gun and waited. Then, he moved his left hand to his other gun. He didn’t care if the old man turned around. It was just more sporting to him if he gave the old man the opportunity to turn around so that he could see the bullets and his death coming. 

Isabella moved suddenly behind the old man and in front of Clay Bass. Bass grinned at her. Isabella threw her hands into the air, pleading. Clay giggled as he pulled both of his pistols from their holsters. He pointed them both at Isabella.

Kane moved away from the door and walked toward the woman, intending to try to reason with her. Instead, he yelled, Now, look, lady! Be reasonable in this situation. There is no point in getting yourself killed. That man  you’re standing in front of does not care who gets wounded or killed, so long as he kills the person or persons he has been hired to kill. Now, move, lady. Please, I’m begging you.

What right do you three men have coming into my cantina and threatening me? Isabella screamed at the men. Or to kill some harmless old man?

He’s not some innocent old man! Kane shrieked. My brother, Johan, and I have been searching for this old man for fifteen years! And we’re not about to simply walk away from this! Now move out of the way before you get hurt, or worse, killed.

Isabelle continued to stand there. Clay fired his first bullet, which hit Isabella in her left shoulder. Kane tried to scream out, but it was too late. Five more bullets came from Clay’s gun. Two of the bullets hit Isabella in the throat, and two hit her in the stomach. The fifth and final shot hit her heart. She fell forward in slow motion and landed on the cantina’s floor. 

Kane turned away, feeling as though he was going to be sick. He wanted to scream for Clay to stop and forget about killing the old man, but he knew that Johan would have no pity. Kane’s brother had waited for twenty years to see that old man die, and he was not going to let it go.

The cantina doors opened and an old man wearing a sheriff’s badge walked in, his gun held in his left hand. The sheriff’s, Dogma was his name, pointed his gun first at Kane. Kane raised his hands and stepped aside. The sheriff then spotted the body of Isabella on the floor. Realizing that Bass was standing there with a gun, Dogma immediately knew he was the one responsible for the death of the woman. Dogma fired in anger, the bullet missing Clay and hitting a table. 

Clay turned as a second bullet from the sheriff flew past his head. He faced the lawman with a smile. Dogma continued to fire wildly until the only sound from his pistol was the hammer hitting an empty chamber. With shaking hands, the sheriff tried to open the pistol’s chamber to reload. Clay began to giggle, which only fueled the sheriff’s anger. Dogma finally managed to reload, the sound of the giggling gunman irritating him further.

Take that gun and put it on the floor, slowly, the sheriff said, aiming his newly reloaded pistol at the man before him. Then I’m going to arrest you for murder. You’ll get a fair trial, I’ll assure you of that. Let’s get going. Now.

Clay began to laugh hysterically. Johan had seen and heard enough. Growing increasingly more annoyed, he stepped up behind the old sheriff, pulled his own pistol from its holster, and whacked the lawman across the back of his head.

Sheriff Dogma managed to get off one final shot before darkness overtook him and he slipped to the ground. 

Meanwhile, the old customer never moved from his seat at the table in the center of the cantina. He merely kept his fingers on his glass of beer, the last few drops growing warm. 

Johan looked at the old sheriff lying on the floor, then kicked the man in the knee. He was about to kick the lawman a second time when Kane stepped up from behind and wrapped his arms around Johan.

That’s enough, said Kane. I didn’t ride all this way to watch some old sheriff be beaten to death.

Kane let his brother go. 

Johan turned to Kane. That stupid old sheriff has been interfering with destiny! he screeched. That old man over there, that old man in that chair, I demand that he is killed. I want him to suffer!

The sound of two shots ended the brothers’ argument.

Johan hoped the two bullets had ended the old man’s life. Instead, they’d hit the beer glass the man had been holding, shattering it in the old man’s hand. There was a smile on the old man’s face. Thoughts of youthful days flooded the old man’s feeble mind. Days when he, himself, had had a reputation with a gun. His smile was as shattered as the glass from which he’d been drinking when three bullets from Clay Bass’ gun found their mark. Each shot punched into and shattered his spine. 

The old man collapsed forward onto the table, the pain spreading through his muscles and bones. He heard the harsh sounds of giggling from somewhere within the cantina. The old man coughed and spatters of blood flew from his mouth. He wanted to move his head off the table, to use his eyes one more time to see. He knew he was dying, felt his energy crawling away. He closed his eyes, welcoming death. One last shot entered the back of his neck and he fell headlong into the sea of death.

Johan was shaking with relief. He could not believe that his quest was finally at an end. Every night and day for twenty years all his energy had been spent on his obsession to taste this man’s inhumane death. Now Johan felt shallow and lost. He