Tony Richards - The Astonishing Adventures of Sherlock Holmes in the Twenty-First Century

But how natural were they? He couldn’t help but wonder. Krane’s words kept on ringing through his head.

He was becoming exhausted, and his eyes were getting very strained, when he thought he saw a flash of bright red light ahead. It disappeared a moment as the interstate dipped down. And then he saw it clearly.

It was a vehicle’s tail lamps. And once they’d stayed in view for half a minute, he concluded that they were not moving.

He began to slow the Trooper, concern mingling with relief. If this was the vehicle he was after, why exactly had the sheriff stopped?

He got his answer when he reached the spot. This was indeed the right SUV. But it had been pulled over by the roadside, and the front end was jacked up. Moore was down on his knees, halfway through changing a tyre, working in the glow of a large flashlight.

Just before he drew to a halt, Holmes noticed a wide streak of blood on the main body of the road. His pulse started to thump again.

But no … Amy was standing near the SUV as well, and she looked perfectly all right.

Moore squinted in the sudden wash of Sherlock Holmes’ headlamps. He was on his feet in the next instant, his hand going to his revolver. So Holmes disembarked quickly and announced himself.

“What are you doing out here?” The sheriff looked astonished. “What the heck’s going on now?”

“I might well ask you the same thing. What happened?”

“Darnedest thing I’ve ever seen. A big coyote ran out in the road in front of me, about ten minutes back, and then stopped in front of the car, almost like it wanted me to run it over. One of its bones went through the tyre. Why would any animal do that?”

“It was giving its life in the service of its king,” Holmes murmured.

Which got him a very strange look from Harlan.

Then all that was forgotten as another voice rang out.

“Damn right on that score, pilgrim!”

Standing on a boulder, about fifty yards into the desert, was the unmistakable silhouette of Eli Krane.

Lightning finally flashed, revealing the man in full. The arrogance of his bearing, and the cold, triumphant sneer upon his face, like he’d already bested them.

He couldn’t possibly have gotten here so fast in that dilapidated Jeep. It simply was not within the bounds of reason. And that realisation must have been apparent on Holmes’ face, because the king of the desert suddenly laughed.

“I release a breath and turn to dust,” he explained loudly, making a scooping motion with his fingertips. “The winds carry me wherever I wish to go, and when I’ve got there I reform again. Few men on this Earth have ever had such power. As I told you, Holmes, the Old Gods love me.”

Amy had begun cringing and whimpering. Holmes knew he should keep both hands free, and so he could not comfort her. But he stepped in front of the poor woman, to shield her from her tormentor’s direct gaze.

“Very noble, Mr Holmes. The last desperate act of a doomed man.”

Harlan Moore had picked his flashlight up. He swung it towards Holmes a moment. Wondered why all the pockets in the detective’s coat were bulging so heavily. And then he shifted the beam in Krane’s direction.

“You’re only one man!” he bellowed. “There are two of us!”

Eli’s grin got even wider. “Yep, you’re right. But there are thousands of them.”

He swung a narrow finger at the ground around them.

Holmes could hear a sudden clattering noise. And when the sheriff redirected his flashlight …

The entire terrain around them was moving. It seemed to have come alive. At first, Holmes thought that it might be the very stones and sand. But no, the light was being reflected in a hundred places. The glint of scales, the wink of chitin. There were countless tiny scuttling legs.

A solid living circle had been formed around both vehicles. It was some twelve feet deep, and was entirely composed of snakes, tarantulas, poisonous spiders and millipedes, and even a few Gila Monsters, the only venomous lizards in this country.

The mass of bodies writhed and rippled as it closed its grip around them. Amy had started wailing, but there was no time to pay any attention to that. Holmes snatched a blue cylinder from his pocket – it had a skull-and-crossbones and the large word ‘WARNING’ printed on it – and then flung it to the sheriff.

“Here, use this!”

Before his colleague could respond, he produced another, then a third, and flung them at the mass of creatures.

Both cylinders erupted, sending out big clouds of dense white powder. They were insecticide bombs, the strongest ones that he’d been able to find. He had bought them at that mall.

Holmes threw more to Harlan, then continued to dispense his own, being careful to space them evenly, so that the entire circle was affected.

It was still a frightening and uncertain process. A few scorpions scuttled forwards, out of reach of the chemicals, and he was forced to stamp on them. And the powder merely infuriated the larger snakes. They rose up, spitting, one of them merely a few yards from him.

There was a blast from Sheriff Moore’s revolver, and the creature’s head blew off.

The next sound that they heard was Eli Krane’s infuriated shriek. Holmes looked up. The man was beside himself with anger. All his haughtiness was gone, his body doubled over and his fingertips pressing to his gaunt and grimy face, which had an insane look.

And then he seemed to remember what he had become. He stood up straight, shouted a spell and swept both of his arms through the night air. A sudden howling wind blew up, and swept most of the dust away.

But it came too late. When Holmes looked down again, many of the smaller creatures were already on their backs, with their legs twitching. Another gunshot, followed by several others, told him that Moore was dealing with the larger snakes. Holmes joined in that endeavour, and reptilian flesh flew.

Another thought struck the detective.

“Krane might bring some larger beasts!”

Quick as a flash, the sheriff was at the trunk of his SUV and pulling out a lengthy hunting rifle with a sight.

Except that Holmes could now see there would probably be little need for that.

Something else had moved into view in the clouds above them.

It was the same thing that he thought he had momentarily glimpsed the previous night. The same writhing tentacles and overabundance of dark, staring eyes.

“Holy hell!” he heard Moore blurt.

Holmes did not shift his gaze from the apparition. A terrible fear was trying to well up in him, but he did not let it. He was, once again, remembering Krane’s words from earlier today, about the sheer lack of compassion that these ancient beings had.

Krane had raised his arms towards the creature.

“More power!” he was demanding. “Give me the means to defeat these heathens!”

But then Sherlock Holmes stepped forwards, and he shouted out himself, in a clear voice.

“This man,” and he jabbed a slim finger at Krane, “tried to kill me earlier today, and he did not succeed! He tried to murder all three of us just a few moments ago, and look at the result!”

He swept his arms across the carnage all around them.

“He has failed you twice in half a day! And this is your favourite son?”

Many of the looming eyes above him became pensive. Krane could see what Holmes was trying to do.

“No!” he screamed, his voice taking on the high pitch of an enraged child. “I’ve served you faithfully! I’ve brought worshippers to you, dozens of them! All I need now is a bit more power and I can finish this, I promise you!”

The gaze above him narrowed very slightly, but he did not seem to notice.

“Hit me with your lightning bolts!” he was still yelling. “Let your strength fill up my body once again! I’ll do whatever you want, I swear! Hell, I’ll not let you down!”