Grace
by
Whashaza
Situational awareness – An understanding and appreciation of the complexities of an incident including an understanding of the environment, the situation, likely developments and implications.
Chapter 1
"You okay?"
Sherlock looked at John and glanced to his left to the person his friend was asking the question quietly. Mindful of the two men in the front of the van, driving on the rural Scottish road. The van's wipers were working overtime against the rain that was coming down. A storm that had been unwelcome and had sneaked up on them without warning.
A sniffle and then a soft nod. He met John's eyes. Shook his head lightly when it looked like the man wanted to say something more. He leaned sideways, bumping her shoulder slightly and gave her a brief smile when tearful eyes met his; careful to not alarm any of the men.
Both he and John had been zip tied. Their hands behind their backs in an uncomfortable position. He shifted. Tried again cautiously to pull on the plastic without the men noticing.
"Hey!"
He looked up. The passenger was watching him. "Don't make me get back there."
His accent was coming through thick. The vowels are shortened and pronounced. "You don't need to." Sherlock said. Held his tongue on a more acerbic response. Glanced again to his left. At the handprint on the cheek.
"Turn. Let me see."
He obliged. It brought him face to face with his and John's companion. Held up his hands so that the man could see that the plastic ties were still in place. He was instructed to stay where he was. He settled. It was uncomfortable on the floor that had not been carpeted. Bereft of the support of the van wall, he found sitting almost intolerable as he tried his best to find a way to stay seated while the van went over another hidden pothole. He shook, landing sideways half against John. He righted himself, bracing his legs as best he could. Gave her another comforting smile.
She wasn't convinced. She looked down at her hands. They scrunched her dress, creating a mess with the material.
"Not long now." The driver said to his mate. John's facial muscles tightened. He knew that look. He raised his eyebrow, out of sight of the men as he asked John a question silently. John nodded. He will be ready.
"River looks full."
"It'll be fine."
"I don't know."
"It'll be fine."
The van slowed down and then stopped. John's muscles visibly tensed and Sherlock turned so he could watch the driver and his mate debate their options. It seemed turning around wasn't optional with the narrow road. The driver wasn't happy.
"When the doors open, you run. Okay." He said softly, turning back to their fellow captive. "As fast and far as you can. Don't look back."
"It's raining." She said, eyes wide. She glanced fearfully to the front and leaned towards him. "I don't have an umbrella or my rain jacket or my wellies."
"I know." He whispered back. Glanced at John. "Neither do we."
She nodded, looking them over. He sighed softly. Frantically trying to find a way to make her understand. He briefly closed his eyes and then gave her another encouraging smile. The two men were in a heated argument now, their accent coming through even stronger.
"It's a game." He said softly. Imploring her to believe it. John nodded. Gave a sniff as Sherlock continued, "You like playing games, don't you."
She nodded at that. "Like hide and seek?"
"Yes. Like that." He glanced behind him again, noting that the argument seemed to be winding down. A flash of light sounded close and then the thunder rumbled. Deep and troubling and the little girl gave a small shriek. Scrambled until she sat between his legs, holding onto his Belstaff as she buried her face into his chest.
"Oi."
"She's scared." John retorted. Indicated with his head to where Sherlock sat. "Just let her be, for heaven's sake."
The man grumbled but didn't say anything more. Sherlock shot John a grateful glance as he braced himself again when the van started up with a stutter. The driver swore and the little girl stiffened. Leaned into him more. He bent his head downwards, whispered into her ear.
"A game, okay. You any good at hide and seek."
"Maybe." She whispered back softly. Peeked up at him from her perch between his legs, her hands still holding tight to his coat.
"I think you're the best at it." He said with a wink.
She perked up at his praise. Pulled herself up higher and glanced at John before speaking conspiratorially. "Once John couldn't find me for a whole hour."
"Oh really." He indicated to John with his head. "Guess what."
Eyes wide, she asked, "What?"
"My friend's name is John too."
She turned her gaze from him to John. Inspected him more thoroughly. "He's old." She said.
He chuckled at that. Raised his eyebrows at John. "I know. He's super old."
John grimaced at him. Made a face that had Sophie giggle. A hand in front of her lips, it was a welcome sound. The last few hours hadn't been easy. The case had seemed to be at minimum a five. The kidnapped daughter of a local that had reached out to Sherlock and John directly. They had jumped the next available flight to Glasgow before taking the trip into the highlands. It wasn't long before Sherlock had realised who the culprits were. Unfortunately, they were apprehended before they could rescue Sophie and make their getaway. They were now going deeper into the mountain, skirting most of the villages by taking back roads that were barely manageable in the rain that was coming down.
"What do you say?" He tried again, meeting her open gaze when she focused back on him. "Want to give it a go?"
She looked over his shoulder at the dark sky. Tears seemed close. "I want my daddy." She hiccupped a sob. Sniffled and buried her head back into his coat. Frustrated, he looked at John who gave him another encouraging nod. Without warning the van slid sideways, flinging him against John. Sophie grabbed his coat tight, clung to him like a limpet mine. He was amazed at her ability to stay in close proximity as another shudder went through the van. A distant roar sounded. The driver swore loudly and Sherlock glanced behind him to see the wide eye look of the passenger as he braced himself against the cubby hole. The van screeched and lurched against an unseen barrier and the driver floored the petrol pedal down. Sherlock could feel the wheels spin. Heard another screech of tortured metal as John flung himself down, over Sophie as he braced himself as best he could.
Sophie screamed. It hurt his ears as whatever it was that had held them gave way and they went over. The van bobbed, turned sharply and then hit something unseen. Glass shattered in the front and he vaguely hurt a brief scream of terror before it was silenced. John rolled against him and they turned in tandem, bracing themselves sideways across the floor. His long legs doing a better job of it than John's shorter stature, Sophy braced between them as an unearthly roar filled the interior of the cab. Cold spray wet them shortly as the van lurched sideways again. He watched one of the back doors crumble, the metal reduced to scrap in milliseconds. John grunted as they swung again and he realised that somehow they had ended up in the river. They seemed to be stuck between two boulders, the water rushing past coloured a deep, dark brown in the inky darkness of the late afternoon storm.
Sophie was sobbing. Fear made her voice constrict to a wheeze as she clung to him. He dared to look behind him. A branch the size of his leg was stuck in the front seat. The driver was impaled and clearly dead. The passenger was gone, an empty seat where he had been, the door missing.
"John!" He shouted above the noise.
John carefully moved. Bulging muscles against the zip tie, he lifted his tied hands and slammed it down onto his back. He did it twice more before they broke clean. He didn't waste any time, reaching down to grab Sophie. He wasn't gentle as he dragged her away from Sherlock. Turning her, he let her grab his neck and held her close as he got up onto his knees. Following John's example, he broke the zip ties before carefully manoeuvring around the back of the van.
He heard a groan of distressed metal. The van rocked as something slammed into the side. He met John's determined gaze as he braced himself against the opposite wall. He grabbed the seat in front of the van. Ignoring the blood, he did a quick search of the man's jacket. He found what he was looking for and as his hand curled around the familiar form of his phone, something else slammed into the van.
It was loud. A boom that vibrated around the metal. The van shifted. With a final groan, the van moved and then tumbled. Water rushed in and he watched as John and Sophie were swept out. His head hit the side, a resounding crack that had him see stars even as he swallowed river water from his gasp of pain. He coughed. Managed even through the stars swirling around his head to get into an air pocket as the van tumbled again before slamming to a stop against something unyielding. He was dimly aware of still holding on to the mobile phone, his body a mass of bruises as he smashed into the wall of the van again. Water surged in again, dark with the top a mass of bubbles, sticks and debris. Something slammed into his arm and he finally lost his grip on the phone. He couldn't help the scream that erupted from the blow. He fought against the dizziness and pain. Choosing the path of least resistance and holding his breath allowed the current to take him through the open window.
He rose, gasping for air.
Swirled in a vortex as the current swept around another big boulder. His fingers reached out, scrambling for purchase but the power of the water was just too incredible. Something hard slammed into his back. Numbing. He barely managed a groan this time.
He tumbled against another hidden boulder, wrenching his shoulder out of its socket.
He lost focus. Just doing his best to stay alive as he swallowed more water. Bobbed into another vortex swirl as the river did an abrupt turn, following the curve of the valley. He couldn't see. Couldn't reason his way out of the violence of the water.
He hit the embankment hard. Felt something give way as darkness loomed. His vision edged to grey and he swallowed another mouthful of river and at the same time heaved it up. For a moment his body was confused as both actions vied for attention. He somehow managed to snag a stump that swirled into his reach. He draped himself as best he could over the tree.
The stump hit something, jarring his body. The only reason he didn't lose his grip was the fact that his coat was caught on several of the branches sticking out. The wood did a lazy turn and then seemed to get wedged in good between a mass of boulders that stuck out of the water. He had no idea how long he stayed there, hanging over the branch as the water rushed past.
He coughed up water. With a shaky hand, dragged himself higher up on the stump. The roar of the water drowned out his shout for John. He laid his head down. Sobbed against the pain. His right arm was useless. His back a mass or radiating pain and his head felt like it had split open. He noticed for the first time that his socks and shoes were gone as well as his trousers. Somehow he still retained his Bellstaff and he wondered how long that would be against the power of the water that buffeted at the stump he was lying on. He lifted his head again. Squinted against the spray of water and the whitecaps.
Just more of the same.
No pink dress. No blond head of his friend.
He gripped one of the branches. Felt a grey edge across his vision as his body started shutting down. He wondered if anyone would find them as another dark shape loomed closer from upriver. He watched in fascination as a half-submerged tree rode the waves, roots sticking like nightmare fingers in the air heading for him.
He didn't have energy anymore to fight as the tree slammed into his stump, jarring it further against the boulders. He lost his grip. Felt something slam into his leg with the force of a two-tonne truck. He didn't have breath or energy anymore to scream.
Without any further prompting, he lost consciousness.