An Agent of Chaos (BBC Sherlock Fan Fiction)

17. Vulnerable

17. Vulnerable

            Running. I had to run from them. I couldn’t get caught, I wasn’t about to be used for leverage. I wasn’t taken advantage of before, I wasn’t about to start tonight.

            It seemed they brought out all forms of police. Hell, even MI6 was involved in finding me. There was an all-out manhunt. Ever since the location was known thanks to Sherlock Holmes, Jim, me, and whoever else had to scram unless we wanted to be caught. Jim had taken John and Elena with him, leaving me to fend for myself.

            I kind of hated him for it, abandoning me so quickly. Maybe he wouldn’t have if I had just told him what I’d just found out. Maybe I would have gone with him, John, and Elena. I wouldn’t be running through woods to outrun a helicopter, its spotlight, and others on the ground in pursuit.

            How could I forget the canines that were chasing after me too, pulling their owners along in the hunt? With the occasional beams from flashlights, I was able to see my way through the woods better than I’d anticipated.

            I had no way of communication on me. I was alone, being hunted down like a wild animal. I wondered if they’d shoot me to stop me. They couldn’t kill me, not if they knew the truth. Did they know about my condition?

            I pulled out my pocketknife at the sound of dogs barking madly. They were following my scent. I had to find a way out of this; I was going to avoid being captured. I hadn’t been locked away before, and I wasn’t about to start now of all times.

            I leapt over a thick log, nearly falling flat on my face. My lungs were on fire, but my legs felt like they were shot with adrenaline. They knew how vital it was for me to escape capture; they were just as reluctant as me to be taken. If only my entire body felt the determination to keep going.

            I could hear the footfalls getting closer. Every bit of me was working past its breaking point. I was getting desperate. What was there to use around me besides branches, my body, and my knife? I’ll have to make do with what I have; I’m not surrendering without a fight.

            A few gunshots rang out, missing me. The helicopter’s roar alerted me that my time was running short. I ducked as though the spotlight would miss me. I was practically a beacon for my hunters once it landed on me and remained there. I still kept running, as if I thought I could outmaneuver the helicopter’s spotlight.

            I skidded to an abrupt halt, seeing armed men pointing loaded weapons at me. I spun around only to be herded in from all sides. 360 degrees of weapons and enemies. I had no way out. If I tried to breach the circle, I would be taken. If I stood and did nothing, I’d be taken.

            All my options had the same result.

            Very reluctantly, I dropped the knife into the grass, realizing that defeat was inevitable. I dropped to my knees slowly, raising my hands up as a man or two came to put the handcuffs on me.

            If Jim didn’t come and break me out, he was in some deep shit. Nobody left me behind and got away with it. Payback would be hell. It’d be a tall order, to get revenge on a man like Jim Moriarty, but I’d find a way to do it.

 

***

 

            This dream was one of many that I’d been having since I’d found out days ago. The night I’d found out, I hadn’t had anything. The night following that, I couldn’t say the same. The first nightmare was just a replay of the night I’d found out, how more shocked I was than happy about the news. In any normal circumstance, I’d be to the moon and back about it. But I wasn’t, and I knew if Jim got a hold of this news, he wouldn’t be either.