Sherlock Holmes, Invasion: Sherlock Holmes, #25

By Michael John Light

How can you trust your best friend when he acts like he's someone else at times?

The terror that has struck London is spreading more quickly.

Many people are reported as completely vanished.

Others do strange acts.

Is this a plague or an Invasion?

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Pirillo
• Release date: Aug 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386083641

Book preview

The Cry of Terror

Wells and Jules edged quietly along the edge of the pier, where an ancient merchant ship, still partially wood and iron, unlike the more modern steel hulled ships, soured and rotted. Or at least appeared to. High above the Pilot's Station, and above the sails, stood a lone sailor, eye to a telescope, which was pointed not to the waters, but to the dock, where no one worked or loitered.

He was a young boy, which of itself was no big event and even normal enough, one saw children all the time hungering for the ships and dreams of travel, but, and this was what put it edge to them;  something was wrong about the way he moved. Almost as if he was a mechanical creature of some kind. He stood in the one position without moving for many minutes, not so much as blinking an eye, or striving to keep the hair from his face that the stiff morning air was blowing in off the Thames.

It's as we thought. Something not right is going on here. Wells whispered to Jules for fear of the water carrying their voices to the lookout, who was as still as a scarecrow in a farmer's fields.

I agree. It's not natural to stand so still like that.

Remind you of anything, Jules.

Too much. Jules agreed, taking time to spit the disagreeable flavor the memories brought to his mouth and his heart. He and Wells had suffered much over their lifetimes. Something that few knew besides their wives and children, whom they kept well away from the masses, for their protection. For this world, while not dominated by evil creatures, had more than its share of such.

Should we inform the others?

Watson was close to becoming that. Wells responded.

That's a yes then?

Yes. Wells replied, taking his eye off the boy in the crow's next. They started to inch their way back through the stacked cargo crates, when there was a disturbance on the deck of the ship. A young woman came screaming to the deck, flinging her arms wildly, as if in desperate straits. She ran to the gangplank and tried to reach the dock.

Jules started to run to her, but Wells held her back. Wait! He urged.

Jules was about to shake him off, when the young woman reached the rough old sea weathered wood of the dock, then stopped as quickly as she had run. She turned around slowly, a great smile blossoming on her face.

A stout man of about six feet came down the gangplank, smiling as well. "Well done. Well done. Soon we shall enough sailors to