"Oh, Eric. What am I going to do without you?" She lay there weeping.
Then slowly, like a memory, his words began to come back to her.
"If you get to the deep woods and I still haven't come, you've got to hide." I'M HIDDEN ERIC. "But that won't do for long. They'll be out with heat sensors, so you've got to get to the graves." She started to rise, then fell back. ERIC, I CAN'T. "You must."
She staggered to her feet, found the path, went forward and began looking for the cluster of gray stones which marked the turnoff. She found it just as she was ready to quit.
Leaving the path once more, she picked her way through vaguely familiar landmarks till she came to two bare oblong mounds of earth. THEY DO LOOK LIKE GRAVES. She fumbled about the edge of one till she found the handle. It took all her strength to lift it, and the thick red earth on top did not move. She slid her way into the opening and lay in the shallow hole, the lid thudding to above her.
She felt for the dead-blanket, covered the length of her body with it and shivered in the darkness. The cutting whir of a search-ship overhead sounded dully around her. She clutched together like a child, hardly daring to breathe. But the ship passed over and was gone.
She was alone.
*
The night had come and though she could not see it she could feel it. The air that tricked in from the breathing hole was cold and wet, chilling her. She turned and wrestled the dead-blanket from her, reached up and tried to push back the lid.
It would not move, and for a moment she panicked. Then placing both hands together, she pushed with everything she had. The earth above her buckled, cracked and gave way. She forced her way out. She stood up, brushed away the clay-like dirt, and looked around her.
All was dark and silent. There was no moon, but through scattered openings in the interlacing canopy a few stars shone dimly. Her eyes already accustomed to the dark, she worked her way slowly back to the path, then turned to the right. Still there was no sound and she walked, tentatively at first, and stopping to look around her many times, then with greater confidence on toward the hills. She picked a light, strong shaft from among the many that lay fallen by the way. Its curved length felt reassuring in her hands. She still felt great loss, but no longer any fear. The hours in the grave had not been wasted.