Atlantis: chapter 8
Okay I'm going to stop with the super genius thing.
And of course, this is chapter 8.
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Chapter VII: Friendly Fighting
They took the elevator down to the fifth floor, where the sparring rooms were. Tom and Holly walked out onto a mat.
"Clang clang." Matt teased.
Tom didn't attack, he just stood there, arms raised, feet slightly apart, waiting. Holly advanced cautiously, aware that Tom was much more dangerous than he looked. Even so, the sight of him unmoving, doing nothing to stop or attack her, drew her into a false sense of confidence.
She lashed out suddenly, trying to catch Tom off guard. He swayed back, avoiding the blow. Holly paused for a moment, then sprang out in a series of successive attacks. Tom dodged or blocked every one of them. He stood, waiting for her next attack. Holly drew back, inviting him to attack her. He didn't fall for it for an instant. Holly swept forward suddenly, as if to land a blow to his chest, only to stop short and fall back again. She was goading him.
Well, all right, if she wanted an attack, then he could give her one. Gladly.
She swept forward again, but this time, Tom jumped in the air, springing forward and up over her head, coming down to the mat headfirst and breaking his fall with a roll. Holly spun around, but Tom had moved again, using his newfound enhanced speed to aid him. He was behind her again, and he lashed out with his bare heel, driving it into the base of her spine. It felt a little weird, hitting Holly, but he was going to win this.
She crumpled for a second, then used the force from his attack to fuel a forward roll, coming up facing him.
Now she was wary of Tom, not wanting to attack. Tom danced from side to side, disorientating her a little. She lashed out with her leg, and caught Tom in his chest. Tom crumpled from the enormous force of the blow, sprawling out on the mat, but he instantly rolled onto his back and kicked out with his feet to stall Holly's advance. Then he threw his legs behind his head and pushed, back-rolling into a standing position. Holly was ready this time, again lashing out in a powerful backwards kick. Tom caught her leg and hauled back, using her own momentum to aid him. She came down, hitting the mat with a loud smack. Instantly she was on her feet again, face turning red. She had been taken down by a boy two years younger than her.
She brought her leg around in a roundhouse kick aiming for Tom's head. Her foot ripped through air, glanced off of Tom's head, and caused it to jerk to one side, but the glancing blow wasn't powerful enough to do damage. Tom spun, jabbing out is hand. It caught her in the abdomen, driving the air from her lungs. Holly gasped, trying to suck in oxygen for the necessary energy of sparring. Tom drew back. He had done the damage, now Holly would attack fast and hard with anger to fuel her.
She drew herself up, wiping her mouth with her hand. She seemed to be smirking, but Tom refused to fall for the ruse. On the sidelines, Matt and Scarlett watched fixedly. This was an entertaining fight.
Holly sprang forward, aiming at Tom's head, then at the last second changing direction and coming in from the side into Tom's kidney. He gasped in pain, blinking back tears, then drove out, intending to shove her back and give himself a momentary respite.
She spun, dodging it and coming around to his back. Tom whirled and ducked just as Holly's fist crashed through the air above him, then jumped up with a powerful uppercut to her chin. Her feet lifted off the ground a couple inches, and she crashed down to the ground on her back.
Hoo-ya.
Holly swung her feet up over her head in a back roll, coming out in a standing position. Splotches of red dotted her cheeks like apples. She was unhurt, just embarrassed. And mad.
Holly charged him, and Tom had a mental image of a bullet train coming at him before he was crashing to the ground. His head hit with a solid thwunk and he saw stars. Holly had him pinned to the ground, her knee in his back. He struggled, but to no prevail. Gathering all his strength, he strained up with only a little force, relaxed for a half-second, then bucked up again with all of his power. Holly stumbled backwards, and Tom rolled over on his back. Pushing with his hands, he swung his legs up and onto the floor, where he pulled his torso up with all his might and sprung into an upright position.
Holly had recovered, and she came at him again, this time stopping short. She held out her arm, and Tom edged the top of his fore-arm against the top of hers, fingers extended. They circled each other for a full thirty seconds. Suddenly Tom spun, coming around in a roundhouse kick. His foot connected forcefully with the side of Holly's head. She rolled with the blow, coming around about a yard away, but looking dazed.
Tom charged on after her, and she blocked all of his punches. Finally, in exasperation, Tom jabbed at her head as fast as he could. She grabbed his arm and spun, with her back against his face and hauled. Tom caught the scent of sweat on her shirt before he went sailing over her onto his back, but quickly jackknifed into a standing position. Breathing heavily, he recovered his composure.
Holly smirked.
All right, Tom thought. Time for this to end.
He waited just a second, then jumped in the air, his feet rising to Holly's head. Knees locked, he swiftly lashed out four times, each time coming squarely into contact with Holly's face. Scissor kicks. After a full three seconds of sustained flight, Tom calmly descended. Holly stumbled back, and Tom landed with a thud. He didn't stop, instead spinning around in another roundhouse kick. The momentum from his leg crashed into Holly's abdomen and sent her spinning, shocked, to the floor. Tom jumped on top of her and quickly jabbed his fist right above her Adams apple. A moment later two claws were stuck into the ground on either side of Holly's neck.
Holly looked up at him in surprise. There was no way she could get him off. He had won.
On the sidelines, Matt cheered, and Scarlett smiled.
Tom retracted the two of his three claws on his hand. He helped Holly to her feet.
"You actually beat me!" Holly exclaimed.
Tom shrugged. "All in a matter of perspective. If the contest was to be pinned to the ground, you would've one." Tom said, grinning.
"Gee, thanks," Holly said, laughing. To Tom's humble and treatment-enhanced ear, it was more exhilarating than standing next to a Velociraptor.
"All right, cool." Matt said forcefully, talking over Holly. "Now, our turn." as he and Scarlett stepped out on the mat.
"Should I go easy, medium or hard?" Scarlett teased.
"You'll know the meaning of hard when you're looking at the ceiling of the ER," Matt shot back.
The fight began when Scarlett jumped forward suddenly, trying to make Matt flinch back. He darted off to one side. She came at him again, this time punching with her right hand, just as Matt jabbed with his right hand. The result was both of them on the ground before they knew what had happened. It had been like watching a mirror, except that one reflection was a male and the other a female.
Tom sat down lightly on the edge of a bench, his spine straight and erect. Holly sank into the bench next to him, slouching down so she looked a foot shorter than Tom.
Matt drew himself up with a quick back roll, and Scarlett did the same.
It was just too creepy. They were both doing almost the exact same thing. Almost. There was that one thing though: Matt seemed a little bit stronger, and Scarlett was a little faster. Also, Scarlett had a tendency to strike fast and furious firs, then burn out slowly as it went on, but Matt kept up a steady, if somewhat lesser, pace.
Tom noticed all this in the span of three seconds.
Scarlett kicked at Matt's head, and he caught her foot. Scarlett jumped, catching Matt by surprise and getting him in the face with her other foot. She fell to the ground, prostrate. Front hand springing into action, she twisted away and evaded Matt's onrush while she recovered.
Coming on full fury, Matt swiped at Scarlett's head, and tore through the air inches above her hairline as she ducked and rolled out of the way. Swinging again at the air slightly above her as she popped up like a jack-in-the-box, he hit her solidly in the mouth, knocking her back. Scarlett stumbled, and Matt took the advantage to launch a viscous kick at her abdomen.
His foot hit air. Matt whirled in surprise; Scarlett was already on the other side of the mat. Scarlett charged up and lashed out in a roundhouse kick at Matt's head. He ducked, and coming up, mirrored her exact move. She ducked exactly like him, popping up with an uppercut to his chin, missing, and stumbling backwards. Matt's leg shot out, but Scarlett had already moved again, trying to evade behind him. Matt turned with a blind swipe, managing to knick her shoulder.
With a powerful kick to the chin, Scarlett was thrown backwards off her feet. She landed with a thwack and dust sprang up from the mat like an army of little buzzing dust devils annoyed by the attack on their residence.
Scarlett looked dazed, but after a moment she rolled out of the way right as Matt's foot crashed into the mat where Scarlett's head had just been. She rolled over backwards just as Tom had done, coming into a horseshoe stance. Arms at the ready, a single lock of blood red hair slipped down across her face. She brushed it away in annoyance.
Matt charged again, but Scarlett was ready, and when Matt chopped at the side of her neck, she pushed his arm away with the outside of her right arm, and with her left jabbed into Matt's kidney with her fingers extended in a two-fingered knifing blow. He doubled over slightly, and Scarlett placed her leg behind his and shoved him back with all her force. Matt went sailing to the floor, but he recovered quickly from Scarlett's fast yet weaker blow.
Coming around, Matt jumped to his feet, already on the offensive. He spun in a roundhouse kick, and Scarlett jerked back as air rushed past out of the way of Matt's huge foot, which came careening less than a centimeter from her head.
Then both were jabbing out their right arms, trying to grab the other's shirt and fling him, or her, into the air. Their hands met in mid air, and they quickly improvised, grabbing each other's wrist in a death embrace. Then Scarlett was shoving Matt's head away from her but still holding onto his wrist with her right hand. Matt happened to do the exact same thing, thus getting them stuck in such impossible positions, to Tom it seemed that they could have been playing a game of Twister rather than trying to knock the other off the mat.
Both refused to let go with their right, and both pushed as hard as they could against the other's head. They struggled for a full minute before Tom finally called, "It's a draw! Come on!"
Scarlett and Matt disengaged reluctantly, both wanting to have won. After a moment they came back to Earth out of the titanic power struggle, smiling at one another.
"That was pretty intense!" Matt gasped, slapping Scarlett a high five.
"Yeah," Scarlett agreed.
"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm beat. Dr. Shang's gonna work us to death tomorrow, and we should get some sleep." Holly yawned.
"Yeah, I'm ready to crash too." Tom said.
They took the elevator back up to the officer's quarters, sinking into the soft bunk beds in relief. Tom sank into the bed, letting the warm down of the blanket surround him. The last thought he had before he fell into the dark embrace of sleep was, I wonder what happened to the Atlantian army...
As it turned out, the Atlantian army had taken a substantial battering. In the frontal assault on Facility 1, they had lost tons and tons of warriors and Raptors. They had expected all the stupid Yankees to be jamming Facility 2 to its limits, meanwhile Facility 1 would be virtually empty, running on a minimal crew. And they had been right, except that they still failed, despite their army being over five times the size of the Yankee's.
And their tactics were so cowardly. Run, hide behind a rock, poke out, fire off some shots, duck down, and don't give us a chance to shoot back! so thought an Atlantian officer huddled over by his campfire.
The rest of his squadron had gone to sleep hours ago, leaving him on watch, along with two other Iraqis.
He didn't trust those Iraqis. There seemed to be something odd about them, but he couldn't quite place his finger on what. They weren't here to fight against America. They were here for something else, he just knew it.
Maybe he'd find out tomorrow.
The first gray light of dawn breeched the tree line, their second since the battle at Facility 1. His crew had suffered lots of injuries, and so they were a little late in starting the battle due to slow moving on the way in. They had managed to avoid most of the deadly barrage of bullets, but even they had taken losses, gotten smacked around, the inevitable.
They had radioed in for an evac after the battle. A whole day ago. 24 hours. They had been told to wait, like good little puppies, after watching as scores and scores of their comrades died, died literally before their very eyes, and they could do nothing.
About 20 hours ago, they had heard the hovercraft sailing over the wall, painted in the Iraqi colors. They had waved, believing that their rescue had come, but instead it was only another loss of life, and soon afterwards more hovercraft had flown in, these of English make. Their hopes of victory and safety were smashed to pieces in an instant.
So they had waited it out, waiting for some sign to tell them that the Iraqi hovercraft had triumphed. But the hovercraft had been gone, gone for hours now, after dropping off scores of men and leaving them behind.
Then the Heli-plane had taken off, again with an Iraqi pilot. And it had flown right over them, even when they lit a small, smokeless signal flame, and tried to hail them on the radio. And a Spinosaurus somehow burst out of one of the building complexes, smashing through the wall and charging through the open gate. Where had it come from? How did it get in there without them knowing? And why on Earth did about twenty thin, bony, hungry Velociraptors charge out after it before the gates closed, and how? Nothing had gone in. Only come out. Why? How? Who? What?
And to the last squad of survivors from the frontal base assault of Facility 1, the mystery only deepened.
