The usual disclaimer: They're not mine (though I wish Jayne was), and I'm making no $$$ off of this.

Feedback is greatly appreciated! Leave me lots, good or bad. Your encouragement/criticism is what keeps me going. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here we go again.

She pokes around her little spot in this darkness expecting to find wooden walls, but instead her 'coffin' has give.

Wait, this is different.

She's had this dream before. Buried alive, dying slowly as the oxygen runs out and the panic sets in, blah, blah, blah. It's almost become as regular an occurence to her as breathing.

Need to conserve my breath.

She doesn't really. She just needs to go through the motions, wake with a jerk, and it will all be over.

But what is that smell?

Suddenly it hits her.

It smells like...

She feels the area around her more carefully, and feels hard bone behind soft flesh. Then her hand comes into contact with what can only be a head of hair.

Oh God, this isn't a coffin around me...these are bodies!

Right on cue, the mass above her begins to press down.

Wake up, Zoe!

But her body doesn't respond, and the weight on her chest increases.

I can't die like this! I won't die like this!

She takes advantage of the little space she has left, and shifts the body above her so that it ends up underneath. Systematically, she begins to claw her way out of the pile. She struggles against the urge to retch as her fingers dig into the rotting flesh around her, and fights to breathe using the small amounts of air filtering through. She goes for what feels like hours...

How many can there be?

She knows that if she's fighting through the remains from the war that she'll be digging her way out for a long time. The thought causes her strength to begin to sap, and her efforts weaken.

I have to keep going!

But despite her brain's encouragement, her body has other plans. Suddenly a hand grabs hers, and pul