Zombie Apocalypse Chapter 2
Chapter two! Remember comments are appreciated by all in this ficathon. :)
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Fandoms: Sherlock, Doctor Who, Smallville
Wordcount: 1,591
Rating: M 15 (for swearing, mentions of sex and violence)
Warnings: gore, swearing (mild), violence
Chapter written by: pebblegosling
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Introduction.
Chapter one.
This, John Watson mused, was not how he had envisioned his trip away from London going. A rotting, groaning, honest to god zombie was lumbering towards him, and Sherlock, the bastard, didn’t even have the gumption to look shocked.
He probably should have known better than to expect a peaceful holiday when Sherlock had suddenly announced they were going on a field trip to a country town called Harvey’s Cleft. And he probably should have been suspicious of the fact they changed to riding bicycles once they got within a couple of kilometres from the town, and that Sherlock had chosen to forgo his customary long coat in favour of a tighter fitting suit jacket. His lack of deductive skills aside, he mused grimly, that zombie really was getting far too close. So he shot it cleanly in the head.
He spun around to face his companion. “Sherlock. Explain.”
Sherlock raised an eyebrow before stating laconically, “That was a zombie.”
“Obviously it was a bloody zombie, my question is why? Sherlock, why the hell would you bring me to a town full of zombies? Is this your idea of a restful weekend? Because I-”
“I was bored.” Sherlock interjected blandly, poking at the incapacitated zombie with his shoe. “Don’t let any of their bodily fluids get into your system.”
“What are you expecting me to do, have sex with them?” John spluttered, still pointing his gun steadily in the direction the zombie had arrived. “I know not to touch them. Or drink any liquids that come from here.”
Sherlock looked at him with an expression of vague pride, before carefully extracting a walking cane he had tied to his bike and twirling it experimentally.
“I got an email alert, informing me that an unknown virus, creating affects reminiscent of zombification had been sighted here, originating in a hair salon in the town centre. I was curious, and so” Sherlock gestured to their surroundings “here we are. Do not attempt to deny that you will enjoy the prospect of shooting zombies - You spent the entirety of Zombieland shaking your head disparagingly at their so called techniques and played Plants versus Zombies and Left 4 Dead for weeks afterwards. Then there were all your quizzes on Facebook on the likelihood you would survive a zombie outbreak - totally inaccurate, don’t worry - and your sudden change of preference to canned food, and sleeping with your gun.”
John tried and failed to hold back a grin. “I really feel like I should be offended by your invasion of privacy, but why start now?”
Sherlock just rolled his eyes, a smile in his eyes. “Let’s go, shall we? I want to take some samples.”
“Just one question, Sherlock - Why the bicycles?”
Sherlock paused, and a look vaguely close to embarrassment crossed his features. “It was rule number seven for surviving a zombie attack in The Zombie Survival Guide.”
He swept past the zombie lying prone on the ground, and John muffled a chuckle, before shooting the zombie in the head once again for good measure, and following Sherlock towards the city centre.
~
The further into town they got, the more evidence of zombie attack appeared. Several bodies which looked like they had been mauled lined the streets and the inescapable chorus of “brains” strengthened.
“You know”, Sherlock said conversationally, as he twirled his cane expertly, bashing a zombie’s head in, “you shouldn’t waste your bullets like that.”
John grunted, twisting slightly to shoot another zombie which had determinedly been approaching them in the head, before giving Sherlock a pointed look. “Waste my bullets like what?”
“You keep shooting them again once they’re down. As long as you gave them a good head shot, we don’t need to worry about them bothering us again.”
John just shook his head, before catching sight of a large group of zombies approaching them. He caught Sherlock’s eye, who nodded grimly, before unsheathing a sharp blade from within his cane.
John started, before laughing uproariously. Sherlock looked at him like he had grown a second head. “What, John, what?”
“You…you actually have a cane with a sword inside of it.” John said, finally quelling his laughter. “I will never get over you. Hah!”
Sherlock shot him a withering look, before bringing his sword up to a fighting stance.
~
When they got to town centre, John was close to being out of bullets and the euphoria of shooting zombies had worn off quite a bit. They had deigned to catch their breath in an alleyway opposite a very battered looking store called ‘Shelly’s Hair Salon’, and Sherlock was staring out at the street, holding his sword loosely.
“You look worried” John observed quietly.
It was true - since they had arrived at the alleyway, after methodically checking them both over for any scratches and painstakingly taking and storing away beakers of ‘samples’, Sherlock had been looking across the street with a frown. At John’s words, however, he started out of his reverie.
“There should be people over there. Or at the very least, zombies.”
John quirked his head at him, and Sherlock sighed.
“That place is the epicentre. There should be bodies everywhere, but there aren’t.” He glanced at the store again, frown deepening.
“It could be the wrong hair salon?” John offered. “I mean, this town is big enough to have more than one-“
“No no, don’t you see? Matted down police tape in the grass, tracks made on the road from a vehicle the size of a small truck - ambulance or fire engine then - all the windows smashed in - from the inside out, so obviously people, or more likely zombies trying to get out. They were locked in there, that much is obvious - attempting to isolate the effected victims to create quarantine most likely - Clearly this is the salon we want. But where have the people gone?”
“They probably ran away.” John said easily, as he glanced around, checking for zombie threats.
“Why would they do that? Some should have stood and fought when the zombies broke out, and at least then there would have been some bodies to inspect-” John shot him a look. “Bit not good?”
“Bit not good, yeah.” John paused contemplatively. “…I think the town is abandoned anyway, and can you blame them? Not everyone gets a high off shooting zombies, Sherlock.”
Sherlock’s lips quirked upwards, but shook his head. “There are people here.”
John waited patiently for his explanation, smoothly shooting a zombie that appeared at the entrance to their alleyway.
“They’ve locked themselves in their houses. Not a bad plan, as long as they stay quiet and away from running water.” Sherlock sliced off a zombie’s head as it lumbered around the corner towards them. “We should get out of here.”
John nodded, and Sherlock passed him the sheath of his cane sword silently.
“Thanks.”
Sherlock shook his head easily, and walked carefully out onto the main street.
~
One thing Donna did not expect to see when hitting the main road in what she supposed was the once cheery town of Harvey’s Cleft with Lois was a tall, lanky, strangely attractive dark haired man to come out of an alleyway, wielding a fierce looking sword, followed by a shorter, stocky man with a short blonde hair, cradling a gun in one hand and what looked like half of a walking cane in the other. The two stopped abruptly upon noticing the two women.
The shorter one, obviously deciding they were both human, jogged across the street to the pair, followed slowly by Mr Tall Dark and Unusual.
“Are you alright?” he asked hastily, taking up a defensive stance as he looked around the area warily.
“We’re al-” Lois started to answer, before Mr. TDU cut in, speaking directly to the other man. “They have scratches all over them John, and that cut on the brunette…They could be infected.”
The shorter one, John, took a wary step away from the women, and eyed them carefully.
Donna cleared her throat. “Those are just from running and breaking into cars - we’re fine.”
John’s face relaxed slightly, but the taller one continued to eye them suspiciously.
“Is it like this all the way through town?” Lois questioned. “We came from Dainty, and it looked like an apocalypse back there - worse than Metropolis at its worst, and that’s saying something.”
John nodded, something that looked suspiciously like a tired grin flashing across his features. “Sherlock-” he gestured at the taller man “Thinks the virus originated from here. That shop over there specifically.”
Both women took a step away from the shop, and Sherlock shot a glare a John.
“I don’t think, John, I know.” He turned to the women. “Not too bad that the press conference fell through for you then - you’ll still have a massive scoop to report to your bosses. And you-” he looked away from Lois and nodded at Donna “should stop waiting for whoever it is you are expecting to arrive. Unless he can transport himself-”
Donna stifled a giggle, causing the other three to glance at her strangely. She smiled guiltily. “Sorry. Nerves.”
Sherlock shot her a searching look, before swinging around to face John, ignoring the women entirely once more. “Now, I want to find out where the people went.”
John rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t we find out their names first?”
Sherlock’s eyes flicked back to the two women, before looking away derisively. “No, boring. ”
“Sherlock…” John sent him a warning look, before smiling winningly at Lois and Donna. “I’m John Watson. This is Sherlock Holmes - don’t mind him. And you are?”
Chapter three