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.
CHAPTER EIGHT
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.