Sherlock Holmes and the Zombie Problem (12 page)

Clearly Moriarty had set in place some plan for this town, but the hardy folk had resisted quite effectively. Unfortunately, as they would be soon to discover, the real fight was yet to begin. Fortunately our abundance of weapons would not stand out in this place, allowing us to move without question by authorities. The train came to a halt at what was another disaster waiting to happen, something we were all too familiar with now. Stepping out onto the platform we took a quick look around before Holmes strode on.

“Should we not help these people?” asked Cyril. Holmes did not even slow down, but answered in mid stride.

“There is nothing we can do for them, they will learn soon enough the true extent of the enemy they face, and they could well be the end of us if we stayed.”

It was a harsh reality, but in an open space with people that were already infected, and many more potential victims, a group of civilians could quickly become an army of zombis. These people must have fought the creatures within the last twenty or thirty minutes, we had to be quick. Holmes led the way off the platform eastwards towards Brienzer See, the easterly lake of the town.

“You are walking with intent Holmes, do you know which direction to head or are you merely getting out of this place?” I asked.

“In my research over the previous weeks I had seen some mention of the town of Meirengen, and my gut tells me that it is a place of importance,” Holmes replied.

We were making good distance through the streets, with a few people giving us odd looks, clearly looking like foreigners, and yet unusually well armed, but all were too busy or concerned to say a word to us. Now half way through the town, a hundred yards down the street, we could see a couple of dozen school children being herded by their teacher. This was a sight which we knew immediately would lead to a serious dilemma. It became quickly apparent that the children were being moved at quite a speed and urgency. This did not bode well.

Getting nearer to the children screams rang out from the other side of the group. Holmes and the rest of us quickened our pace to confront this new problem. Nearing the group we could see bodies on the ground just twenty yards from the children with two of the creatures shambling towards them, fresh blood still dripping from their foul and disgusting jaws.

Egerton and Matthey immediately took aim with their rifles, each targeting one of the creatures, though wecould already see a gathering mass of the beasts approaching from a distance. Egerton’s Mauser rang out and the bullet struck the eye socket of the creature, the eye ball exploding and blood gushing from the socket. The bullet cleanly exited the beast’s skull and it tumbled to the ground. Matthey’s Mosin fired at the second but skimmed the creature’s skull, cracking the very top of it and causing the beast’s own blood to drip down its face. In a split second Matthey re-cocked the weapon with supreme efficiency and put a further round directly into the brain, the beast was finished.

The children were being herded by their teacher in through a doorway to a large wooden building of what was evidently their school, a wise move. More cries rang out from the direction we had come from. Civilians were being attacked randomly, a few gun shots rang out, but not near enough, it had begun, and we were just a matter of minutes too late to escape without a fight.

“What do we do Holmes?”
“Run and live or stand and fight?” he replied. Holmes was giving us an option, but no man could run

in this situation. The town was overrun, but this school house was a sanctuary, one which could only stay as such with our support.

“Into the school!” Cyril shouted.

The men piled through the doorway after the children and Cyril slammed the door. This was not a good situation, shut in a building with now terrible odds against us, and yet our principals would not have us do anything else. The teacher who had led the children rushed towards us.

“What is going on here?” she shouted.
“Watson, the fair sex is your department,” said Holmes. The men were taking hold of everything they could

place their hands on to barricade the door, which was fortunately reasonably sturdy to begin with. The woman expected answers from me but our situation was too desperate, no hand could be spared.

“Please excuse me Madam, but get your children upstairs to a safe a place as exists and stay there!” I shouted over the screams of the children.

She nodded in response, thank heavens, the last thing I had time for was an explanation let alone an argument.
“John, Berty, get to the other side of the building and start barricading all windows. Watson, Egerton, do the same for the side windows and any doors, Cyril and I will handle the front,” said Holmes.
They all rushed off with all urgency and understanding upon the tasks Holmes had given them, as I did. I took the easterly side whilst the two men rushed to the rear, Egerton mirroring me on the westerly side. There were three windows on my side of the school, all were a good four feet off the ground, a comforting basis for defence against an unarmed enemy.
Fortunately, being a school, every room was laid out with furniture, and plenty of it. I upturned a large wooden table and propped it against the far window, sliding several cupboards in front to secure it. The middle window had a tall wardrobe near it, which I slid across to cover the access up. Just as I finished up, glass smashed at the third and final window and an arm reached through to hoist the body up and through. Damn, these were strong creatures, and either intelligent or highly determined. My rifle being propped against the inner wall and out of reach I pulled my service revolver from its holster as the beast’s head popped through the opening. Aiming at its head at just five feet away, I let the lead loose and plastered what were nicely decorated walls with arterial red blood, the creature slumped on the window frame, lifeless.
Walking to the window where my latest victim lay, I could see more zombis trying to follow their dead comrade’s lead, big mistake. Laying my boot on the bloody head of my vanquished foe I kicked it off the window sill and onto the beasts below. Before they could recover, my revolver had the closest in sight, I fired and the bullet pierced the skull, driving down to the nerve stem, a gaping hole that left the beast tumbling to the ground. Turning my pistol on the next closest I quickly fired into the centre of the face, striking the bone of the nose, causing the bullet to deflect in to the eye socket and rip through the side of the head.
That was enough to give me time to block the hole. Taking hold of a large sideboard I slid it across and turned it upright, continuing to fling every object in sight at its base to keep it where it stood. I was content that this side of the building was as secure as could be hoped for, but before I could consider any future actions, glass smashing and the scream of a man rang out, followed by several gun shots.
I ran to the north side of the building, finding the window broken, a dead creature slumped in the bay, but no sign of the defender, just a trail of blood leading to the west side. I quickly pushed the beast over the edge with the stock of my rifle and upended a table in front of the window, weighted down by nearby chairs. Now following the path of blood, it was not a pleasant sight, nor the end I wanted to find. Furniture clattered off at the far end of the northern wall, I quickly ran to investigate.
“Egerton, Watson!” Berty cried.
Taking the corner into a new room I found a horrible site. John, now a zombe had Berty in his grasp on the floor, the two men tussled around in desperation. Not wanting to risk shooting Berty, but with a sick stomach I turned my rifle around and struck John hard on the head, he slumped to one side, unconscious. Egerton ran into the room as I offered my hand to Berty.
“Have you been bitten?” I asked urgently.
Berty looked confused, he was in shock, it was no easy task to accept your good friend has become an enemy, and especially at such short notice.
“Berty! Snap out of it, we haven’t time to waste, are you harmed?” Egerton insisted.
“No, I’m fine,” Berty replied.
That was fortunate, as we had now lost one friend and ally already, another was not acceptable. The building was safe and secure for the moment, but the hum of the creatures at our walls was ever present, as well as the odd cry of another victim that was quickly silenced. This was a bad situation we had been placed in but one that defined us. Holmes ran into the room with Cyril, weapons at the ready. They paused and looked at the bloodied body of John lying lifeless on the floor beside us.
“Was he infected?” asked Holmes.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Dead?”
“Probably not.”
“Then we must finish the job,” Holmes replied.
I argued with Holmes, we did not know the extent of this disease or whether it could be cured. There was a man who had until minutes before been our friend and ally, and now Holmes wished to remove him from this world. The very idea struck me at the core, as a doctor I could never give up on a patient so readily. Before I could finish my reasoning with Holmes a shot rang out beside me and blood splattered across the floor. Cyril had shot John in the back of the head.
“He was one of us!” I shouted.
“Us being the operative word, he was infected, he no longer had anything in common with the John I knew other than a facial resemblance. He would have brought nothing but suffering and disaster to this group. He was my friend before he was yours, and you know this to be the correct course of action, throw aside your medical ways and accept this as a necessary casualty of war!” said Cyril.
They were harsh words, not any that could easily be accepted, but he was right. The infection was beyond our control, even if a cure could be found, we had no way to secure the victims to pursue a treatment. The fact also remained that as far as we had seen without own eyes, these creatures were humans that had died, so were they even the same person anymore? There was nothing else to do but accept this, and the fact that I may well have to do the same for one of my friends in the near future, a horrible thought.
“What now?” Cyril asked of Holmes.
“Egerton, Berty, keep a guard on the inner perimeter, Cyril, Watson, come with me.”
We followed Holmes upstairs to a quiet room where he evidently wanted to discuss our situation and tactics. We were now in a siege situation, which was never an appealing idea. We pulled up chairs and sat down in the middle of the room, there was a permanent groan of the masses outside, but other than that, it was quite peaceful.
“We are safe for now, but that safety can only last as long as the barricades do, or our ammunition, or until hunger finally takes us, as is the case in every siege,” I said.
“It was not a wise move becoming locked in like this, and yet, one we must now deal with,” replied Holmes.
“So what do we do?”
“Stay and we may eventually be relieved by the military forces, if they can subdue the enemy, fight to break out, in which we may have too little ammunition, or divide our forces with a combination of the two,” replied Holmes.
“But which is the best course of action Holmes?”
“If Moriarty is not stopped then I see no hope for us, and whilst the onslaught may stop, we could face the potential of a wicked villain in power. Not just in England but across Europe, a dictator the likes none of us have ever known. Therefore, wemust continue on to Meirengen to either stop Moriarty’s scheme or finish him,” replied Holmes.
We all sat back, contemplating the turn of events. It was becoming ever more clear to Cyril and I what Holmes knew had to be done. At least some of us had to continue on to the greater task at hand, but none of us would leave a school of children to such a wicked fate, except perhaps Holmes. Cyril scratched his chin with an uncomfortable contemplation, and finally spoke.
“Do you still believe you can stop this villain?” he asked.
“We can but try,” replied Holmes.
“Then that must be done. It seems to me that you and Watson must continue on with the task that was placed in your lap, and we will do the very same here,” said Cyril.
It was an admirable thing to hold the fort, not wanting glory or asking for the chance of survival, but merely doing what was gentlemanly. Holmes pondered the situation for a moment, I knew he would not want to lose such a great asset as three competent fighters, but it was also the best option available.
“Then it is decided, thank you Cyril,” said Holmes.
The great detective offered his hand out to Cyril, for all of Holmes’ cold-heartedness; he had once again shown some inner warmth as he had done when we first met again at the start of these unspeakable events. We were perhaps leaving three great men to die, but on their own terms and for all the right reasons, a fitting death for military men.
We were all thoroughly exhausted, and were yet to devise a plan for us to break out. It was quite clear we needed the help of the teacher, who was more familiar with the building and terrain than we were. “We need to talk to the mistress of the school, as we must be leaving within the hour for what could be the final battle of this war,” said Holmes.
The three of us got up and strolled down the corridor to where we could hear the sound of conversation. Opening the door the room went silent, there were maybe twenty children sat with their nervous teacher biting her nails, she was in her early thirties. The children were completely silent, observing and listening intently to every move and word we made. Holmes explained to her that we had to be off within the hour, but that the other three would stay with them. She was still in shock and quite shaky, but fortunately still capable of assisting us, as well as able to speak near perfect English.
“It might be useful to know that in the courtyard we have a cart with two horses, though one of the wheels is buckled,” she explained.
“Do you have saddles? I asked?
“Yes.”
This was music to our ears, we had gained transport. Now we just needed a way to break out of the siege that would both provide a safe exit for us and not compromise the defence of the school.
“Is the courtyard enclosed?”
“It has a gate and high walls running all around and is adjoined to the school on the westerly side,” she replied.
“Thank you, we will investigate and return presently,” said Holmes.
The three of us walked back downstairs and headed to the westerly side of building. Through the gap of a window that was now mostly covered up we peered at the courtyard, my heart sank. The horses were indeed visible in a small stable across the courtyard, but the gates to the yard itself were open and a dozen zombis were already shambling around the area. I moved back and allowed Holmes to see through the same gap to assess the situation. He looked back at me, but not in concern, only consideration, ever the tactician.
“That gate could well be our escape route, but we need time to rest and prepare the horses, we must get it shut and secure for the night. However, gunfire will inevitably draw more creatures to this westerly wall,” said Holmes.
“Agreed, then we use cold steel and be quick,” said Cyril.
My old friend Matthey had a wide smile and glint in his eye. As frightful as this situation was, the opportunity to exhibit his skills with a sword were too much for him to hide.
“Fine, but we leave one man as sentry to the school whilst we do this,” replied Holmes.
“Egerton, Berty!” Cyril shouted.
Cyril quickly explained the plan to the two men, he left Berty to patrol the ground floor of the school whilst Egerton joined us. We placed our long guns down in a corner, but kept our handguns on us, for you could never know when they would be necessary if things didn’t go as planned.
“Is the doorway clear?” asked Holmes.
Cyril looked through the small gap in the window and quickly turned in response.
“Aye, the first creature is ten yards away, the rest spaced throughout the yard.”
“Ok, then Watson and I will take the centre, both taking the direct path to the gate to close it, Cyril the right flank, Egerton the left. We will drive forward as quickly as possible and therefore you two men will have to keep a keen eye on our backs. Ready?” said Holmes.
The three other men nodded, in all honesty, we were not afraid, nor edgy, we were eager to draw blood and gain some payback for the death of John. Holmes pulled the heavy bolt across and heaved the weighty door open. The eyes of a dozen creatures were immediately framed upon us. Stepping outside, the four of us lined up at the entrance to the courtyard. The distinctive ring of metal on metal rang out as our swords were drawn in almost perfect sequence.
Not waiting a second longer, Holmes strode out towards the first creature and I followed just a few feet afterwards, enough to stay safely from his swing but close enough to provide support. The other two men headed diagonally outwards into the courtyard to engage every enemy in order reach the gate.
Holmes approached the first creature quickly with a confident strike, sword resting on his shoulder, the beast reached out with its right hand to grab at him. Holmes bought down the sword with vigour onto its arm, amputating it at the elbow, blood spurted from the wound, but before it could even tarnish the floor, the sword had struck horizontally to the right side of the beast’s neck.
The sword was embedded in its throat, the creature still curdling and at least partially alive. Holmes with one move snapped the blade out of the wound, and making a full twist over his head before delivering a mirrored strike to the other side of the neck. It took the head clean off, an exceptional display of swordsmanship, and yet I knew he would not have been happy at needing two strikes to decapitate, it was inefficient and not up to his standard. Holmes should have chosen his sword more wisely, for mine was far more forgiving.
Holmes quickly moved on and I approached my first target, just off to Holmes’ right side. Knowing I had chosen the better sword for the task not needing the precision that Holmes possessed. With no finesse I struck a vertical blow onto the beast’s head. The heavy curved blade cleaved into the skull and down to the nose, severing the brain in two and knocking the beast to its knees; a satisfying display of the power this sword could deliver. Blood trailed from the gory face down the fuller of my weapon. Lifting the blade slightly I kicked the lifeless creature in the chest to release its grip on my blade.
Holmes was now making good headway, just ten yards from the gate, only one beast now stood in his way, but two others were closing in on his flanks, soon to be on his back. He suddenly went to a running pace, blade out front as if a lance, closing at the creature. His thrust pierced the left eye socket of the zombi and his hilt ran up to its face. Stopping only briefly, he drew the blade out, swept the blade over his head and hewed down on the creature’s neck, leaving the head tumbling to the ground.