The Classified Dossier: Sherlock Holmes and Count Dracula(29)
“None,” Holmes said thoughtfully. We had reached the kitchen in the back of the house and started for the front door.
Holmes had taken the lead, followed by Dracula assisting Mina, while I brought up the rear. When Holmes opened the door that led out onto the street, he seemed to be struck by a thought and turned suddenly to ask a question of Mina or the Count.
A soft whooshing sound came to my ears, punctuated by a crack. Then a section of the wood panelling in the foyer exploded in a shower of wood chips. There, in the panelling, stood a large hole from a pistol or rifle shot.
Dracula immediately shielded Mina with his own body, pressing her against the opposite wall. Holmes staggered and I forced my way past Dracula and Mina in order to yank him back into the house. We both fell back against the same wall as Dracula and Mina, crouching down so as to present no target.
“Someone well-prepared,” Holmes said tightly. “You can still see the shine from the bullet.” He nodded at the place where the bullet had hit and I could, indeed, see the sheen of silver. Whoever shot at us, they knew something about vampires and how to kill them.
Holmes immediately bounced back up, peered out the still-open door for a brief moment, and then quickly dropped back down beside me.
“The park across the street,” Holmes said, “judging from the angle of the shot. It is an air rifle, I should think, for I heard no loud shot and it is too long of a shot for a pistol, even in expert hands. Fool! I’ve led us right into a trap. It must be Dracula they are after if they’re hunting with such specialized ammunition.”
“Or Mina,” Dracula said protectively.
Holmes shook his head. “They had Mina and left her as bait to lure us here. I should have known they’d anticipated our visit tonight when we discovered all their new vampires removed from the premises.”
I tasted the blood in the air. “Holmes! You’re injured!” The assassin had not completely missed after all.
“Yes,” Holmes said. “One point for our assailant. But the wound is only minor, and we cannot pause to tend to it. I’m only grateful that I have no susceptibility to silver poisoning. It makes me a comparatively durable target. Such a scrape as this would be much more harmful to the three of you, I expect. There are a number of trees in the park. I suspect up among the lower branches of one is where our would-be assassin has made his home.”
I risked a glance in the direction he indicated across the street, where a small copse of trees stood. The branches of several of them would all have made an excellent vantage point and the light was too poor to pick out his hiding place. I thought of the altered vampire eyesight. Sharper at close range and able to see in the dark, but not quite as good at long distances. I would need to get closer to try and find the villain.
Dracula had clearly been thinking the same thing. He stood. “Stay here with Mina,” he said shortly. His eyes blazed and he spun, quick and feral, mounting the stairs up into the second floor of the house.
“Well then,” Holmes said. “If Dracula is going to make his way across the street in secret and apprehend our assailant, it only remains for us to provide him some cover.” He pulled his revolver from his coat pocket and stood, leaning quickly and suddenly out of the doorway in order to shoot his revolver twice.
He then ducked back into the foyer. “In addition to distracting our foe, that is very likely to summon the police, I should think, who ought to be a nuisance, but a welcome nuisance at this juncture all the same.” His tone was jaunty but his face had become a rictus of pain. He’d moved freely enough so that I had thought the injury a small one, but now I thought again. It was clear that my friend had not been entirely truthful when he referred to his gunshot wound as ‘minor’.
“Don’t move,” I said, kneeling next to him. “Let me have a look.” His shirt and waistcoat were soaked with blood. I had earlier feared that the temptation of blood would forever make my doctor’s profession impossible for me, but I did not even stop to consider it now. I tore open Holmes’s vest and shirt, both of which were slick with red.
Holmes dropped his pistol and Mina scooped it up and moved to peer carefully into the street, ready to call out an alarm if the situation demanded it. Clearly this woman was no shrinking violet and I would wonder, later, if becoming a vampire had changed her in this fashion, or if it was this kind of spirit that had attracted Dracula in the first place. But now, I had only thought for Holmes and his injury.
A blood-curdling scream tore through the night from across the street, more inhuman than any sound I’d ever heard before. I could not help but shudder and pity the poor wretch that might have cause to make that sound.
“The shooter,” Mina breathed. “Vlad got to him.” She sounded almost sad. Then she said, “Mr Holmes has passed out.” Her face turned sympathetic as she watched my blood-drenched hands desperately performing the necessary field surgery to remove the bullet from his chest. It had not penetrated the lung, but was deep in the muscle, lodged against bone in such a way as to make me fear for my friend’s life. For the first time since my transformation, I thanked providence for my new gifts. The feeble moonlight trickling through the open door was more than enough light for me to see clearly, and my fingers had a new sensitivity and deftness that astounded me. Before my change, I should have had to wait until light or transportation to a hospital. Still, I had only a small kit in my coat for tools and the wound was frighteningly dangerous.