He moved with his friends and the man seemed to know where he was going in the labyrinth of tunnels. They passed slaves and then Thad saw them ahead and a thrill went through him.
“Look,” Greg hissed in a low whisper.
Ahead, coming toward them were gladiators, in all their regalia. Some of the gladiators held helmets under their arms. They carried no weapons but they looked imposing and impressive. Thad’s back straightened to unyielding hardness. He would not look weak in front of these men. He noted that his friends did the same and a smile creaked at the side of his mouth. They were Marines and they were badass, but these gladiators were something almost mythical. He set his face in hard lines, not wanting those men to read his expression. He would be facing them eventually, fighting for his life. Dread washed over him, these men had trained for this and he saw them and their scars. One man was missing an eye and a hideous puckered scar ran the length of his face. Marco heard the squeak of metal and leather.
He felt the eyes of the gladiators, sizing them up. Because he and his friends were all in top shape, he hoped it would give them all an advantage. They would need all the help they could get.
Marco’s hand had dropped to his side when he spotted the gladiators. A thrill went through him and he thought about all the movies he’d seen and all the video games he’d played, but nothing could compare to what he was seeing now. He felt drips of warmth hit his chest but he didn’t look down. He knew his face was bleeding but he would show no distress or discomfort. His spine snapped to attention. He had survived those skeevy bastards out on the sand. They stunk so badly that he wondered if they were infected.
Even now, he could smell them and fought the urge to wipe his hands. He then realized that he was still stark naked and had been so in front of thousands of people. He was starting to remember; it was as though his brain had been on autopilot. He felt once more the rage toward Appuleius and ground his teeth. He knew it would do no good, this was how things were in these times. He had to get his mind in the right place or these people could hurt him worse and not even think twice about it. Human life was nothing here if the crowd’s cheering were any indication. They had enjoyed watching those men get hacked to pieces and all the blood he’d seen on the ground and the pieces and parts of bodies.
His heart squeezed when the thought of his parents and his younger brother came into his mind. By tomorrow or the next day, they would be considered missing. He’d texted that he and his friends were going to the Colosseum, but the trail would go cold. He wanted to curse Dean, but he couldn’t because he had been just as excited to go down and explore the tunnels. Was it the earthquake that had opened a fissure in time? When they’d tried to backtrack, they had run into the torch, instead of the darkened tunnel. They had been neatly trapped in this time. What did that mean for them?
A shorter life and he bit down on the urge to scream. In a few days, his command and the Marine Corps would investigate and they might chalk it up to terrorists. Their families would wonder and grieve but no bodies would ever be found. Would his phone be found, and would that indicate where they’d ended up? He’d never know. He would never see his family and he would die out there at some point and he was pretty sure it would be a horrible and painful death. He shuddered and pushed that thought away. He could not think like that. He saw Greg stumble but catch himself.
Greg’s legs were shaking wildly and his heart was still beating hard in his chest. He was having a really hard time not breaking down and crying. He was a Marine and Marines didn’t cry, but he’d never killed anyone and he’d never had anyone try to kill him. He also felt like puking and he swallowed hard. They had passed the gladiators and he’d eyed them and he was in awe of them. They looked hardened and rough and he wondered how long he would live. He was now grateful for the presence of his friends and the training he’d received from the Marines. If he were trapped here by himself, he didn’t know what he would do.
He felt a cold sweat encase his body as his mind played out the fight above, over and over. Something dark had taken over and had fought that prisoner. Greg wasn’t a pacifist, but he wasn’t aggressive either. His fear had stepped aside and something had come out to fight. At first, he had been horrified and frightened of the prisoners coming at them with those jagged swords. But then, his body had taken over. It was as though he had become an animal, a killing machine. Was that how it was in war?
Was that why they had trained so hard in boot camp? So that his muscle memory would take over? He didn’t know, but he was glad he had survived. Once more, the thought of how long he would survive played in his mind. Could they find their way back to the future? Was that even possible? No son, you’re screwed, for real, he thought.
Dean moved as though in a fog.
