Classroom 223-a Sherlock fanfiction

Chapter 6 (Rosie's POV)

We have to get one of those large 6 seater cabs to fit us all in. At the moment, we are on our way to Sylvia's. I am sitting next to Sherlock facing the back window watching all the cars behind us. John and Sylvia are small talking, how mundane, whilst Sherlock is watching John, he always looks so sad when he thinks he can't see him and I don't know why. I've noticed that this jet black Range Rover has been keeping on our tails throughout most of the journey and I have this gut feeling that something bad may happen. Squinting closer into the windshield I see men holding objects that look as if they may be guns. A horrible feeling in my stomach goes off as I start to feel adrenaline rush around my body. "Sherlock...?" I say apprehensively. He is already watching the Range Rover. "I know." He gives me a spine tingling look as I know what is coming next. In a split second he shouts, "Vatican cameos! Get down!" In a split second, Sherlock grabs onto my back and pulls me down with him as John does the same with Sylvia. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bullets fly through the back window of the cab, shattering it to pieces as the car swerves out of control. Sherlock has wrapped himself around me like a shield, doing his best to protect me from harm under his large coat. I don't dare look up as the next few moments flash before my eyes, it's like an action scene out of a James Bond movie, only in real life. The taxi driver swerves around the corner once again, I don't know where we are going or what will happen. Muffled screaming and shouting echoes from within and outside the car. I still feel Sherlock's warmth around me. Don't be dead. Don't be dead. Don't die. Don't die. Help us. Help us. Please stop. Please stop.

Wailing of police sirens screech behind us and the blue and red colours pour through the shattered windows. It is then that I realise it's stopped. The Range Rover is gone. And I hear Lestrade's voice calling our names. I feel something moving against me, it's Sherlock sitting upright but he still has his arm wrapped around my back. "John! Rosie! Are you alright?!" He yells in terror brushing the glass off my lap and undoing his seatbelt. My eyes meet my fathers as he sits there shocked, and covered in crimson. "Dad?" I croak out. "I'm fine. It's Sylvia, she's dead. She's been shot. I'm not injured. Rosie." He blurts out, panting. Sherlock is fussing over John in a frantic manner. "Sherlock! I'm fine. It's Sylvia you should be worried about." The door to the cab opens suddenly and standing there is a terrified Lestrade. "Oh thank God. You're alive. Get out quick! He shouts relieved until he sees Sylvia's crimson dyed body beside John. "Jesus. I'm sorry. We'll get her to hospital."
"She's already dead." Sherlock says quietly. "She's no use now. I need to tell Mycroft." And with that he jumps out of the battered cab, holding out his large hand which I grab onto as he pulls me out of the wreckage. Dad gets out the other side and joins us in a hurry while paramedics rush to get Sylvia's body. A few approach us and lead us all over to the back of an ambulance. I'm quivering on the spot, it must be from shock. I'm sandwiched in between Sherlock and John who both have their arm around my shoulders comfortingly. "Here, take this," Sherlock says taking his coat of and wrapping it around me, "you're in shock. You need a blanket." He smiles at me, patting my back. "Thanks Sherlock. Dad? You ok?" I ask Dad who is looking at the ground. "I could have lost you both..." His voice quivers. Me and Sherlock exchange saddening glances. The paramedics check us over offering us shock blankets, "We have our own." Sherlock says holding his hand up to stop the paramedic from giving it to him. I'm so happy we are all alive and so thankful that we escaped from injury. I owe Sherlock that. I just hope that he can sort this case out without Sylvia's help.