From The Lamanai Codex, Chapter 10

February 2, 2010

I was just informed of a little something called Fight Scene BlogFest, so I figured, why not toss something into the fray. You see what I did there. I… never mind. This is from my last NaNoWriMo novel, which is still very much in progress.

* * * * *

“What’s the plan, Doc?” Eliza asked as they crouched behind the car.

“We, er, surprise them?” Dr. Lancaster said uncertainly.

“Works for me,” Eliza said. “I’ll take the big guy and the lady, you take the skinny dude.”

“I can take someone other than the… skinny dude!” Dr. Lancaster protested.

“Fine, take the lady,” Eliza said. “Whatever. Just stay out of my way.”

Another scream issued from inside the house. Eliza did some kind of quick stretch and then vaulted the car and raced for the door. Dr. Lancaster followed, wishing she had some kind of weapon but knowing that such things could be used against her. Eliza disappeared into the house and, taking a deep breath, Dr. Lancaster went in after her.

Copeland’s son was on the ground behind the door, his face in the process of being rearranged by the burly man while the woman looked on passively. The other man was nowhere to be seen. She took this in quickly and then reevaluated as the scene changed.

Eliza sent a sharp kick toward the back of the man’s head, knocking him flat since he was already near the floor. The woman turned in surprise and lunged at Eliza, who had already backed away and proceeded to lash out with a rapid series of kicks and punches that the woman absorbed with remarkable fortitude. Meanwhile, the man on the ground was struggling to his feet and Copeland’s son was crawling away using his good arm.

“Mierda,” Dr. Lancaster cursed. Looking around, her eyes settled on a large clay pot near one of the sofas. She leapt over and grabbed it, turning around just in time for Eliza to kick the woman right into her. The woman smashed into the pot with her head and Dr. Lancaster was thrown back onto the couch, the woman half in her lap. Without thinking, she grabbed a smaller pot and brought it down on the woman’s head as well. This one, however, was not clay: it was cast iron. The woman sank to the ground with a groan and didn’t move.

“Nicely done, Doc!” Eliza exclaimed just before the man on the ground dove at her legs and knocked her down. He jumped on top of her with a savage grin and punched her straight in the face. Her head bounced against the terrazzo floor with a sickening crack. As he drew his fist back to hit Eliza again, Dr. Lancaster swung the cast iron pot at his head. He dodged but still received a glancing blow, and abandoned the apparently unconscious Eliza for the clearly vibrant Dr. Lancaster.

She swung at him again and he dodged again, rising to his feet. They were about the same height, but he easily weighed twice as much as she did. After a few more feeble swings dodged, he was able to grab the pot and yank it out of Dr. Lancaster’s hand, throwing it behind him and rushing toward her like a linebacker aiming to sack the quarterback. She jumped aside and he crashed into the coffee table, splintering it like it was made of toothpicks. Unfazed, he turned and charged her again, and this time managed to grab her waist as she tried to dance beyond his grasp. He pulled her close in a bear hug and treated her to that same grin he had given Eliza as he slowly tightened his grip to squeeze the breath out of her.

Knowing that she had at least a minute before her air was gone, Dr. Lancaster did what had worked against such people before: she viciously headbutted him right in the teeth. Unfortunately, he seemed to be better equipped to deal with such a move than the last person she had tried it on, the only difference in his demeanor that he was now grinning while blood dripped from his nose and turned his teeth red.

“You two-timing me, baby?” a voice from behind the man said, and as he relaxed his grip on Dr. Lancaster and turned to look, a fist plowed into the side of his face. Teeth audibly cracked and he released Dr. Lancaster enough for her to slip out of his grasp and stagger backwards, gasping for air. The man completed his turn to see Eliza in a defensive stance, grinning at him and gesturing for him to come and get her. He was only too happy to oblige.

Dr. Lancaster left the two of them to their row and rushed to Copeland’s son, who had almost reached the other room. “Are you all right?” she asked him. He shook his head, his face already swollen and changing colors. She grabbed him under his arms and hauled him the rest of the way into the room, closing the door after them and locking it. On the floor, she saw the gun that she had kicked away earlier and wondered why he had never gone back to pick it up. Idiot.

“Listen,” she told him. “They want the book, and they want you dead and out of their way, just like your father. Give it to me and they’ll come after me instead.”

He tried to say something but his mouth was apparently in too much pain. Blood dribbled from between his lips and Dr. Lancaster wondered if it was all localized or if he was bleeding internally.

“Is the book in here?” Dr. Lancaster asked, and he shook his head. “The kitchen? The bathroom?” Shake, shake. Exasperated, she said, “I don’t suppose you hid it in the recingado flower pot outside?” At this, he nodded, and she stared at him in horror.

“That book is a priceless five hundred year old artifact and you left it outside to the elements like a bit of compost?” she shrieked. He shook his head and looked as offended as anyone could with a face covered in bruises and contusions. Again, he seemed to be trying to speak, but gave up and just groaned, tears streaming down his cheeks.

The door burst open, revealing one out cold strongman and one winded and slightly bleeding teaching assistant, who turned her head and spat blood at the floor in a very unladylike fashion.

“Are you quite finished?” Dr. Lancaster asked, smirking.

“Me?” Eliza grinned. “I could go a bit longer, but I think I wore him out.”

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