Sherlock Holmes and the Zombie Problem (13 page)

Holmes was now at the gate, but two zombis were now between him and me, shambling as quickly as they were able towards him. With only one priority and trusting me to cover his back, he focused all attentions on shutting the large gate. I quickened to a trot, running up on the back of the first creature I struck it with all my force with the knuckle bow to the back of the head, it tumbled to the ground.
Spinning on the spot I cuthorizontally at full extension, striking the second’s throat but only with the last few inches of the blade. The beast’s neck opened up, and its knees crumbled sending it down. As I approached the body it had already begun to topple to its knees, but in one fell strike I removed the head from its shoulders, it was utterly vanquished. Turning my attentions to the one I had just moments smashed in the back of the head, it still lay face down in the dirt. Without contemplating whether it was dead or not, I aligned myself ninety degrees to its shoulders and cut down on to the neck, removing the head in situ.
Looking up, Holmes had shut the gate and was sliding the heavy iron bolt across. Excellent, we were safe, we turned out attentions back to the courtyard. Cyril and Egerton had slaughtered their way through their foes as efficiently as us, good company was a boon in a tight spot. The two men had already bagged themselves two heads each, whilst each carried on confidently and without hesitation.
Cyril was carrying his beloved 1796 heavy cavalry sword, a brutish and unrefined piece, more a bludgeon than a sword, he used all its mass and power to his advantage. With an upward slash the zombi’s jaw was taken clean off, and immediately moulineted into a downward cut that struck the skull and pierced all the way to the throat, the blade now visible and bloody where the jaw used to lay.
Standing at the gate Holmes and I could do nothing but marvel at the sheer proficiency and fencing excellence that was being displayed before us in a most bloody and ferocious manner. Egerton paced towards his next victim and with enviable form parried off the beast’s arms with a handing parry before delivering a decapitating blow with his 1857 pattern royal engineer officer’s sword, clearly a treasured piece.
Only one beast was left standing, Cyril marking him out before Egerton could respond. Walking confidently but slowly towards the beast, he delivered a ferocious punch with the hilt to the creature’s face, buckling it in on itself. The nose was obliterated, but Egerton struck twice more with the knuckle bow, before finally smashing down on the crown of the skull with his mighty blade, firmly imbedding it into the centre of the skull.
I looked back at Holmes, he was stood triumphantly with sword now sheathed and lighting a straight pipe that protruded from his mouth. Sucking back on the tobacco puffs of smoke casually flowed from his position. Content and pleased with himself, he took the pipe in his left hand and looked up at us.
“Fine work gentleman, now let us wrap up this affair and be on our way,” he said.
Sheathing our swords, a thing we would never do by choice to bloodstained beauties, we moved quickly to the small stable. Entering I instantly saw the two saddles on a shelf covered in thick dust, they had not been used in years, but the horses were at least healthy and fresh.
“There will inevitably be more foes beyond the gate, for no matter how quiet we have been some will be drawn there. Egerton, please make sure that the windows to the courtyard are very secure, and then gather back here with our rifles,” said Holmes.
Egerton nodded and rushed back inside. Finding horses at a time like this was a lucky turn of events. It was only a shame to be leaving three good allies behind, they could be remarkably useful and had already proven as such.
“One man will be needed to open the gate, and you will likely not get it shut again. Therefore, have one man as a runner, whilst the other two of you give covering firefrom the school door. You should be able to get securely back inside before they reach the inner walls,” said Holmes.
“We’ll manage just fine, good luck to you.”
“Thank you. Watson, come with me.”
We headed back to the stable and I quickly saddled the horses, for whilst Holmes had a basic knowledge of riding, he knew nothing of the practicalities of keep a horse, which was typical of him. We eventually led the horses out into the courtyard where Cyril was awaiting us.
“I rather suggest you have the teacher replace Berty on sentry in the house whilst we accomplish this breakout,” said Holmes.
Cyril ran off into the school to carry out his duties.
I asked Holmes what we would do upon reaching Meirengen, was that the end of our path or were we merely hoping to find an answer or the villain himself there?
“Meirengen has been a regularly visited location of Moriarty, and therefore it is unfathomable that we will not find some guidance from the locals there,” replied Holmes.
It was not quite the answer I was hoping for, but at least we would be moving forward. Five minutes later Cyril returned with Berty; he was clearly rather efficient and persuasive with the teacher. We were set to go, but it was not a place where we would ever choose to leave our group of friends.
Berty propped his rifle inside the doorway and moved to the gate to be ready, whilst Egerton and Cyril gathered up their rifles and readied themselves half way into the courtyard, off to the sides of us, leaving us a straight path to the gate.
“As soon as that gate is open and Berty is clear, we ride quickly to the east, and you do not slow until I do. If you get lost, follow the easterly lake along its edge, following signs for Meirengen,” said Holmes.
I nodded in agreement, Cyril handed us my SchmidtRubin and Holmes’ shotgun. We slung them over our backs with the improvised rope slings that he had quickly fashioned for us from supplies in the stable.
“Are you ready gentleman?” asked Holmes.
All agreed.
“Then good luck to all of us, and thank you.”
We drew our sabres and laid the blades on our shoulders, it was finally time to leave.
“Now!” shouted Holmes.
Berty yanked the gate open, revealing a small group of the beasts awaiting us, he immediately turned and retreated as planned. The rifles of Cyril and Egerton rang out at our sides and the first two creatures were immediately felled by accurate shots to their skulls.
“Go!” shouted Holmes.
We dug our heels into the horses and lurched forward, gaining speed quickly. Our horses struck the first two zombis and they were smashed out of our way, whether dead or not, their bodies were crippled and thrown aside. Holmes, at the lead and off to my right side, hacked at the head of his first target, but hit the beast in the centre of the face causing it to spin and fall to the ground. I reached over to my left side and smashed down onto the head of a beast with my sword, it going lifeless so I quickly pulled the blade out of its skull.
We rode on, there were beasts scattered and shambling in all directions, but sparse enough for us to gallop between them, our pace remaining fast. We heard only a few more gunshots and then no more, that hopefully meant that our friends had again secured the school. Their survival now likely depended on our success.
After a few minutes we were at the edge of the lake and out of sight of any zombis. We slowed down, for the horses could not keep this up for long. Neither of us spoke, simply keeping a steady course easterly.
It was remarkably peaceful out there, and for a moment I was able to forget all of our worries and look out across the Lake of Brienz, a beautiful sight to behold. Switzerland was such a lovely place to travel though, the fresh crisp air, the vast scenery, a shame then that we had been brought there by such evil means. Finally I came out of the semidreamlike state and spoke up with what was on my mind.
“Do you believe Moriarty knows where we are?”
“It would be truly astonishing if he did not have a good inclination of our location,” Holmes replied.
It wasn’t really good news, but neither would lies have helped matters.
“Moriarty will play his last cards before the day is out and when his beasts cannot finish the job, he will be forced to muddy his own hands with the task, a situation we can only hope happens sooner rather than later.”
We carried onalong the trail, we would be in Meirengen within a couple of hours. Holmes was perhaps right, though there could well be more barriers between us and the final solution to this problem. We still did not have a true idea of where we were heading, or how to bring an end to the evil Moriarty was creating. We could only hope for some leads in the coming hours.

We had been riding for about an hour, it already felt like a day of journeying. These last few days we had done nothing but travel, and it was continually taking its toll on us. Neither of us had eaten since the day before, and had exerted ourselves physically more than is wise on an empty stomach, it was not a pleasant feeling. Holmes came to a stop, and huffed in exhaustion, both physically and mentally.

“Let us take just a few moments rest beside the lake, we can see clearly in all directions, let us calm our spirits with the tranquillity of this fine place, before going on once more to the bloody horrors of the day,” said Holmes.

Without saying a word we both dismounted, as I whole heartedly agreed. We led the horses to the banks of the lake to drink and then tethered them to a branch of a tree which span out across the calm water. Both of us sat down on the grass, just a yard away from the water. For a few minutes we just gazed out across the calm lake and imposing mountains surrounding it. It was a beautiful sight, and this sort of beauty was needed to counter the crippling morale that fighting such beasts resulted in.

Holmes took out his smoking pipe from his jacket and packed it up before lighting and drawing back on it. I could tell it was the most pleasant feeling he had felt in days from the loosening of his shoulders to a more relaxed state than I had seen him in since this latest adventure began. Finally, my thoughts turned from this idyllic place back to the realities of the day.

“Do you think we will ever see England again?” I asked. “The odds are firmly against us my dear friend, but should we not, we can with luck at least take pleasure in the fact that our country folk can benefit from our sacrifice, that the country will not be wholly consumed by this evil as a result of our work,” he replied.

As ever, Holmes was right, he saw the situation for what it was at large, rather than what it meant to a single individual. It really was astonishing that we had made it this far, we now stood some chance of making the final hurdle and bringing an end to this disaster, but that would likely cost us our lives.

Still deep in thought the silence was broken by a gun shot. Holmes looked at me as it was quickly followed by several more, with gradually further weapons being discharged. That was not the sound of a civilian defence, but of a better armed force, though without uniformity, it suggested a surprise attack.

“Let’s go!” shouted Holmes.

We rushed to the horses who were already startled and uneasy by thenoise in the distance, it was fortunate that we had tied them down, or we would have had no transport at all. Leaping upon the saddles, we again lurched forward into a gallop heading towards the sound of gunfire, not knowing what to expect, beyond the fact that survivors were engaged in battle. Heading towards a battle was never a nice feeling, for you never knew quite what to expect, though hearing the sound of firearms gave us some hope that the living were still drawing breath and given the creatures hell.

Within just a few minutes we could see the source of the gunfire. Three military wagons on the trail were being attacked from the east by a horde of zombis, their number uncountable, but well over a hundred, a grim sight. The wagons were facing east and must have recently left Interlaken, likely unaware of the disaster that had struck mere minutes after their departure, though likely dispatched on a mission relating to this very disaster.

We did not even slow but rode up to the rear of the wagons. A line of perhaps thirty infantrymen were fighting with bayonets in front of the wagons. Off to a flank lay a Gatling gun on a carriage, the crew half dying next to it and the zombis moving onto the flank. If we were to save these men we needed the usage of that gun, as our personal weapons alone would not be enough.

We leapt from our horses, no time to secure them anywhere. Holmes pulling his shotgun from his back and me drawing my Adams revolvers. Holmes fired first and repeatedly without stopping. The group of creatures overcoming the Gatling was ripped apart by the devastating weapon that Holmes carried. As I rushed to the gun, I trained my guns firstly on the dying men at my feet, putting a bullet into the head of each one, we could not risk them turning during the battle, they were no good to anyone anymore. I then began targeting the nearest creatures, and fired as quickly as I could, just to clear some time and space. Holmes’ shotgun was empty within seconds, as were my Adams, bodies now littered the area in front of the gun carriage.

I reached the Gatling, the box feed was attached to the top, but was full, the crew must have been overcome whilst setting up the piece. I was glad to have knowledge of this weapon, as I was now going to put it to good use. Turning the gun twenty degrees to my left side and into the horde, I began the hand crank.

Bullets spat out of the engineering marvel at a slow but steady pace and whistled through the bodies of our foes, filling them full of lead. Blood splattered in all directions and clothes ripped and tore as I continued to fire. Far from the accurate headshots I had previously accomplished, this was a matter of quantity over quality. These beasts could be killed like a human, and although it was not as efficient to strike the body as the head, this fine piece of weaponry was doing a grand job of clearing the masses; what I didn’t kill would be readily restrained for bayoneting later.

Holmes beside me drew out his pair of Webleys from his side satchel and ran to my right flank where he evidently saw danger that I did not, I trusted him to resolve the matter as I continued on with my path of destruction.

Finally, the gun ran dry, steam pouring from the barrels, half of the creatures lay lifeless, many more writhing on the floor, at least partly disabled. Standing up I drew my sabre and drove forwards at the surviving creatures. I hacked at the first, with anger and rage more than prevision and focus as I normally would, hitting the collarbone, forcing the beast to its knees. Levering my blade from its divided flesh, I beat down on its skull with the pommel of my weapon.