Warning: hallucinations and … gee, why would I warn about that?! It's a good thing!
CHAPTER 14
Warm, lovely day. Hot breezes blowing palm leaves. The ocean waves look so inviting… but it's too hard to get up from the sand. I'd rather just lay here a while longer… it's been so long since I've had a decent rest.
"Sherlock!"
The sun is intense, but it feels so good on my skin. I've been so cold lately. I wonder if John would like to go for a swim. "John?" No answer. Ah well, he's probably sleeping. Or maybe he's gone to fetch us more of those frozen, green drinks. Or maybe the ones in the pineapple with the umbrellas on top. I really just want to sleep…
"Sherlock… please!"
Mmmmm… warm… hot, yes. Maybe too hot… I shouldn't get a sunburn. Probably time to turn over to more evenly distribute the UV rays. Very, very hot… and I can't roll over. "John!" What's going on? I thought we could go for swim. OUCH!
John slapped the angular, pale cheekbone with the back of Sherlock's own hand. "SHERLOCK!" We have to MOVE!"
The explosion had blown them forward from the doorway. Sherlock had taken the brunt of the force on his back, while John had been more protected. But now, the heat from the burning building was suffocating.
Sherlock's eyes fluttered and his lips moved, but no sound came out. He's not regaining consciousness, John worried. He decided to try the same maneuver Sherlock had achieved inside. John yanked their arms up over their heads and started to rock back and forth. When he finally got to the tipping point, they made one rotation, but didn't have the momentum to continue.
Really, John? We'll get all sandy. Well… if you insist…
This left John on top, straddling Sherlock's torso with his face buried in the base of Sherlock's neck. Gasping for air now, John made another attempt at a roll and succeeded in making 3 full turns until they hit a curb.
Look. I made a sandcastle, just for you.
John heard a siren. Oh God. Please come quickly. He kept his eyes closed because the air was full of swirling smoke. Suddenly, there was something wet on face. Wet, but not cool. And, it was rough. A loud whine broke through his daze. "Gladstone!" A sharp bark in reply. "Good boy." Another whine. No, we need barking right now, John realized. "Hey boy! Where's the squirrel? That's right, where's the squirrel? Go on! Go get it!"
Gladstone stopped mid-whine to stare perplexed. He's head darted either side. But, when he didn't see the implied prey, this set off a frenzy of frustrated barks.
"What the hell is that?" One of the officers, who had jumped out of the cruiser to gape at the flames pouring from the large, collapsing structure, turned and pointed along the side of the ruined building in the direction of, what appeared to be, a wildly bouncing, barking bulldog.