Paths Woven

Shot

I chuckle quietly. "I knew she was going to try that."

I'm watching the security camera monitors. John assured me earlier that if she did escape, taking out the tubes that suddenly would cause her to lose consciousness soon after. I have people from the homeless network following her. Yes, I'm up at three AM. I had some sugar last night. Tim, one of the especially good homeless trackers, has texted me.

"Found her," it states. "Out cold in an alleyway."

"Appreciated," I type back. "Return her here."

I see the black M on her pillow and I know it is of her own doing. We each think we're a step ahead of the other, but we're at an even pace. She has a small can of spray paint in her pocket. I have her bag. She would have come back for it eventually if the tubes being removed didn't knock her out. That was my plan B.

Tim comes into the waiting room with Scarlet in his arms. He's right. She's out for the count. We take her back to the room and I have someone block the air vent. Thankfully, the windows are bulletproof and the door's lock would be pretty hard to bust, so I think we're alright in the "she's not going to escape again" department. I sit down on a chair, waiting for her to wake up again as they stick the tubes back into her arms.

*****

It takes four hours for Scarlet to regain consciousness. When she does, she looks a bit cross. Can't blame her. I would be, too, if my escape plan had failed. She moves to take out the IVs again.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Scarlet."

She jumps, then asks, "Why not?"

"That's what knocked you out last time."

"Let me go, now."

"I can't do that. I'm sorry. I would let you go, but there was something dangerous that the surgeons had to remove from you. Look at your wrist."

She does. A thin red line shows up on her dark skin. "What was it?"

"A tracking chip. Moriarty has known where you were this whole time. Ever since he gave you that stamp those years ago, he's had tabs on you."

Her eyes widen and she growls. "I knew there was something suspicious about those people following me!"

The air vent begins sputtering ominously. A white fog leaks out of it.

"Quick! Cover your mouth, something!"

We hold our breath for as long as possible. I gasp, having to take in breath first because of lung issues I've been having. Instantly the room starts getting hazy. Everything darkens just as I hear the window shatter.

*****

My eyes snap open. I'm spread eagled on the floor, in a dimly lit room. Scarlet is tied to a chair nearby. She blinks and opens her black eyes. I catch her gaze and motion for her to stay silent. The door swings open and he walks into the room. James Moriarty. Oh, how I loathe the man. He's handling a gun. I sit up, giving him a scathing glare. He merely laughs at me.

"Well, well, well. Do I really have the next generation's Watson and Holmes in my captivity?"

"Not for long, Moriarty," I spit. "Sherlock will find us."

He waltzes over to Scarlet, undoing her bonds. He holds us both at gunpoint, making sure we don't move. He backs away and flicks on a light switch. We are in a huge room. It's a school basketball gym. The abandoned school down in South London!

Moriarty cocks the gun and points it in my direction. "Hmm," he giggles. "Who should I shoot first?"

He pulls the trigger a little bit down. He seems settled on me. Jim suddenly swings the gun in Scarlet's direction and shoots.

"No!" I yell, leaping in front of her. The bullet hits my stomach and blood begins to seep out from the circular hole, my white shirt stained crimson.

I begin to go into shock. Sherlock's nephew, Malachi, appears next to me. He's been working with Molly recently at the morgue.

"What's going to kill you first?" He asks.

"Blood loss," I answer immediately.

"Yes. So we need to figure out which way you're going to fall. How far did the bullet go? Did it go through or is it still inside you?"

"Depends on the gun," I tell him. I screen out all the different ones it could be. "This one. No, that one. No, that one."

Daisy Lestrade, who I've seen in photos in Lestrade's wallet, appears. "The type of gun doesn't matter. What is behind you?"

"Scarlet is."

"What would you have heard if the bullet went through?"

"She would have cried out in pain." I answer. "But she didn't. So... the bullet is still inside of me."

"So you need to fall backwards to keep the bleeding to a minimum."

I fall onto my back, hitting the ground. I stay still as possible.

"What's going to kill you next?" Malachi questions.

"Shock."

"Yes. You need to find something that calms you down inside your mind palace. Now go!"

I enter my palace, running around inside, throwing open doors to different rooms. I see a familiar white tail round the corner.

"Aristotle!" I call, clicking my tongue. "Come here, kitty! Come to Elly!"

The snowy white cat runs to me, rubbing up against my legs. His emerald green eyes are curious, loving, innocent. He's large and fat and fluffy, just like I remember him. I scratch him under his chin, right where he loved to be rubbed.

"Hey, good boy. They're getting rid of me, too. It's no fun, is it?"

He purrs, and I pick him up, holding him to my chest. This is the cat that Jim shot when I was a little girl. Malachi pops up next to me again.

"Now that your shock is dealt with, the pain is going to kill you. Find something to help with the pain."

I fall back again, on the floor, writhing in agony, screaming loudly. I force myself to get up, to find something. Aristotle is only comforting. He won't help with the physical pain. I open hundreds of doors, searching for something. I stumble into a room. My old school rival, Courtney Webb, is tied up in a straitjacket, a large chain around her neck. She lunges for me, making me stumble backwards.

"You!" I hiss. "Why are you here?"

She cackles maniacally. "I'm your nightmares."

"How - how do you do it? How did you shut out the pain?"

"Oh, I felt it, Elizabeth. I just don't fear it."

I hit the walls, struggling to keep consciousness. I fall on the floor, flat on my back, vision unfocused. Courtney laughs again.

"Oh, dear. Hmm, you're dying now? It's raining, it's pouring, Elly is boring," her voice has changed. She has shifted into Moriarty. "I'm laughing, she's crying, little Watson is dying. You've left all of your friends. Oh, how you'll let them down," he chuckles.

I sit bolt upright, straining to get out the door.

"Was it something I said? Wait! Elizabeth!"

I start struggling up the staircase that leaves my mind palace. Aristotle climbs beside me, his purring giving me a little comfort. I battle towards consciousness.

The whitish fog that has been clouding the rooms in my mind palace clears and I wake up. The first words I utter are, "South London, the old abandoned school."