Page 47 of Thawed Gladiator Thrax

Thrax nods solemnly, but I can see the excitement dancing in his eyes. “I never thought I’d see Rome again,” he says softly. “I certainly never thought I’d fly through the air like a god.”

His wonder is infectious, and soon we’re all caught up in the possibilities. Varro admits he’s been researching Rome and describes the Trevi Fountain, while Laura pulls up images of the Pantheon on her omnipresent tablet.

As our planning session winds down, my body is alive with excitement. Tomorrow, we’ll wake up another gladiator, taking the first step toward reuniting Thrax with his brothers-in-arms. And soon after, we’ll be jetting off to Rome, showing him how his world has changed—and how much of it still remains.

Thrax leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. “Thank you,” he whispers. “For giving me a chance to see my home again and for giving me a future I never dreamed possible.”

His words make me feel warm and glowy inside. With a response like that, I’ll keep giving him presents—big and small—forever.

As I look around the table at our little group—Laura and Varro now pouring over the statistics of the gladiators in stasis, reviewing who should be revived after Cassius—I’m struck by how quickly this has become my family. My home.

Whatever challenges tomorrow brings, whatever Roth might have planned, we’ll face it together. Soon we’ll be walking the streets of Rome, making new memories in a city older than time.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Thrax

My heart races as Laura reviews the final details of our escape plan. The word feels strange—escape. As if we’re prisoners. But in a way, that’s exactly what this is. A chance to break free from the walls of the hospital, to see the world I’ve only glimpsed through screens and stories.

“Rest assured,” Laura says, her eyes intense, “Roth’s focus is entirely on the hospital. Our cyber security team has been monitoring his communications, and there’s no indication he’s aware of this trip.”

“I don’t know… I worry. How can it be this easy?”

“It’s not easy, but everything’s arranged,” Laura assures us. “Keller personally vetted the driver and mapped out the safest route to avoid surveillance. His attention to detail is exactly why I hired him to head our security team.”

Skye nods, her fingers intertwined with mine. “And the extra security measures here?”

“In place,” Laura confirms. “The hospital is more secure than ever. Which should keep Roth’s attention here while you two slip away.”

The forged passport in my pocket feels weighty. A new identity, crafted from thin air. Daniel Rossi, a name designed to draw little attention. I just need to keep my mouth shut in public, so my antique pronunciation doesn’t hint that I don’t belong.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask Skye quietly as Laura reviews the route to the airport one last time.

Her smile is reassuring, though I can see the nervous excitement vibrating in her expression. “Absolutely. You ready for an adventure? Travel? Cops and robbers? And…” She winks at me. “Maybe some extra time in our hotel room?”

Before I can respond, Laura clears her throat. “Alright, you two. It’s time. Remember, act natural. You’re just a normal couple heading off on vacation.”

Normal. I snort.

With final hugs and whispered good lucks, we’re off. The hospital corridors feel different somehow, charged with the energy of our upcoming trip. Each turn could reveal a guard, a nosy staff member, or someone who might question why we’re heading toward the exit with small suitcases in hand.

But we make it to the service entrance without incident. A black car waits for us, driven by one of Laura’s trusted team members. As we slide into the backseat, I feel like I can finally breathe again.

“Phase one complete,” Skye whispers, giving my hand a squeeze.

The drive to the airport is a blur of terror. For the first few minutes, I slam my lids shut and simply focus on breathing. Every time I open my eyes, I feel the urge to vomit. Between the speed, the scenery blurring by, and the other cars whizzing so close, it’s only due to Fortuna’s protection that we’re not killed.

“Don’t look out the side window,” Skye instructs. “It’s like an optical illusion that makes things on the side look like they’re going faster than if you look out the front windshield.”

That helps a bit, but every few moments, I have to shut my eyes and breathe deeply to keep breakfast from crawling up the back of my throat.

“Will the plane be worse?” I swallow something bitter.

“Want the truth?”

Although I’m not sure, I nod.

“We’ll be going faster, but it won’t feel like it.” She goes on to tell me the noises and bumps we’re likely to encounter.

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