Human Error - Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter twenty five - tramway tunnels

"Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him."

The older woman raises her pistol, cocks it again and aims it towards him. Sherlock immediately doges to the side of the tunnel, disappearing into the shadows as one of the thugs starts to hurry in his direction.

"How would you describe me, John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?" Sherlock's voice travels through the tunnel, clicking the k-sound at the end of his last word.

"Late?" John let's out tetchily.

"That's a semi-automatic. If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand metres per second."

"Well?" The dark-haired woman continues, still aiming her pistol towards the shadows.

"Well..." Sherlock begins, and suddenly we see a figure run out from behind the thug that had walked so care-free towards the darkness, and thwacks the man across the stomach which what seemed to be a metal pipe. The man grunts and collapses to the ground, and then Sherlock immediately ducks back into the shadows. "... the radius curvature of these walls is nearly four metres. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you."

He bursts out of the darkness and runs to the nearby burning dustbin, kicking it over. John flinches at the loud crash and the woman's eyes widen when she realises that it's now even more impossible to see that area of the tunnel. I try to peer into the darkness, trying to see how close he was. And soon enough, I manage to witness Sherlock just behind Sarah as he squats down behind her, starting to untie her bonds. My eyes land on another figure.

"Sherlock!" I shout out, but the man had already looped a long red scarf around his throat. Sherlock let's out a cry and stands up, tugging at the scarf around his neck as the man pulls at it tight.

My eyes then avert to the sandbag, which is just passing the counterbalanced weight on it's way down towards the metal cup on the crossbow.

"We got to do something." I say out loud, still tugging at the ropes that were really secured tightly around my hands. "Can you get yours lose?"

John attempt's to free his hands, but grunts in frustration. "No."

Realising that Sherlock wasn't going to get us free in time, John tries to stand, which is almost impossible with his hand tied and attached tightly to the chair, and his ankles tied to the legs of the chairs. John manages to get up and walk a few steps forward. That's a good idea.

I try to stand too, and it's proven more difficult than it seems. I manage to stumble foward a couple of paces, carrying the chair with me. I feel like a turtle.

That is, until gravity pulls me back onto the floor.

I glance at John, and notice that he's actually lying on the floor after loosing his balance. My heart races as time passes, and I looked back at the sand to see that it was almost empty. Sarah's imminent death was coming soon and we were all useless.

I begin to try and stand and move forward again, but John was still the one who was closest, despite him thrashing about on the floor. I make eye contact with the sandbag again, and panic surges through me.

"John!" I shout, eyes darting to him and Sarah, "Kick it!"

Flailing and groaning with the effort, John manages to squirm around on the floor and finally gets one foot free enough to kick it upwards and connect with a part of the crossbow. The crossbow shifts position, twisting slightly to the left just as the ball connects with the cup. The arrow is released and flies across the tunnel ... and buries itself in a man's stomach -- the man that was currently attacking Sherlock. He grunts, then straightens up, his face full of shock. He groans breathily for a moment, then slowly topples to the floor.

Gasping for breath, Sherlock finally stood up and looked around. The distant sound of running footsteps can be heard -- most likely the woman who had us at gun point, since she is no where near us as I looked around, observing the scene.

Sarah's anguished muffled sobs bring us back to reality, and Sherlock get's rid of the red scarf from around his neck before dropping to his knees besides her.

"It's all right." Sherlock said soothingly, untying the gag and taking it from her mouth. "You're gonna be all right. It's over now. It's over."

I let out a shaky breath that I didn't know I was holding, "That was interesting." I comment, looking down at my tied up state. My wrists and ankles began to ache, and I could tell that they would be sore for awhile.

Sherlock straightens up and stands behind her, putting a reassuring hand on Sarah's shoulder as she let's out another sob. Even though we were threatened and people nearly died, I was a little pleased Sherlock stayed to help and support Sarah as well as us. Sherlock comes across stubborn and selfish, like he only cares about his work and no one and nothing else. But here he was, actually being nice to someone instead of taking off after that woman.

Sherlock looks down the tunnel wistfully as he unties her bonds, and John smiles up at Sarah wearily. "Don't worry. Next date won't be like this."

Yeah, that's if you get a next date, I thought.