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The world ended in a roar of shifting earth. I was declared dead–a fatal mistake by my husband’s true love-
and buried alive.
My husband, Alex, chose to carry her, with her minor scratches, to safety. •
He left me to die alone.
The last time this happened, in another life, he found out about her misdiagnosis and forgave her. He marri
ed her at my funeral, whispering “I love you” to my memorial portrait before turning to kiss her deeply.
This time, when I opened my eyes, it was to the sight of my husband burying me with his own hands.
He was ready to abandon my rescue, all to cover up her mistake.
Just as he was about to sign the form to cease all efforts, I grabbed his wrist.
This time, they would pay.
“No pulse, no respiration. We can’t waste resources. Bury her on–site.”
The moment Alex heard those words from Isabelle–his one true love–he didn’t hesitate. As the rescue team captain, his first command was to have me buried.
He didn’t even check for himself. He just started barking orders at his men.
When he saw them moving too slowly, he grabbed a shovel himself. He piled scoop after scoop of heavy damp earth onto my body, onto my face. He stomped it down with his boots, packing it tight, sealing any path to the air, erasing any chance of survival.
Then, when a secondary tremor shook the ground, he saw it. He saw my hand, struggling, breaking through the soil. But he still turned away, scooped the lightly injured Isabelle into his arms, and ran, leaving me to my fate.
This time, I clung desperately to the last rescuer to flee.
“There’s another survivor!” the man screamed. “She’s alive!”
But Alex’s voice boomed back, a cold, hard command. “It’s probably just post–mortem reflexes, air escaping the lungs. She’s not alive. Move out, now! We can’t risk more casualties!”
The man hesitated. He wanted to run, but I held on, my grip like iron.
With the last of my strength, I rasped, “I’m alive. Please… save me.”
But after another roar from Alex, the man wrestled his arm free from my grasp and sprinted towards his
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captain.
“Don’t waste time on the dead!” Alex yelled. “Let’s go! There are others who need us!”
The dead. That included me.
His wife of six years.
He knew I was alive. He saw my hand. But he had no intention of saving me. His entire world was focused
on the woman in his arms, the one with nothing more than a scraped leg.
In my last life, it was the same once–in–a–century landslide. I was buried in a state of shock, suffocating while trying to save someone else. His precious Isabelle, a doctor on his team, had pronounced me dead
Alex was about to leave me there, to conserve resources.
But someone else found me, felt a faint breath, and rushed me to a hospital. I died on the operating table.
Isabelle’s misdiagnosis was exposed. She was fired and had to pay compensation.
But at my funeral, Alex married her. He stood before my portrait, telling everyone how much he loved an
missed me, then turned and sealed his vows to her with a passionate kiss.
In that life, he’d spoken of his regret endlessly. He’d told anyone who would listen that if he had a secon
chance, he would save me.
And here was that second chance. He chose to bury me himself.
The earth he’d stomped down was as hard as concrete, pressing the life from my lungs. I was suffocating again, could feel Death’s cold hand reaching for me once more.
Suddenly, the ground convulsed.
I used the violent tremor to claw my way upward.
The air was thick with dust. Through the haze, I could see the rescue team, not far away. I could even se Alex, his brow furrowed with concern as he gently applied antiseptic to Isabelle’s leg.
Once he was done, he led his entire team away without a single backward glance.
I stretched out a hand, a silent plea for help, but all I saw were the taillights of their truck shrinking in the distance.
It was deep into the night when the second search party arrived. They found me, barely breathing, lying ami dst the ruins.
“Who in God’s name buries a living person?” one of them shouted. “Her nose and mouth are packed with dirt She’s lucky to be alive. Who’s responsible for this?”
“Team One was already through this sector, weren’t they? How could they have missed her?”
The team leader was furious. They rushed me to the nearest hospital, their shouts of “Make way! Emergen-
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cy!” echoing down the chaotic hallways.
But our path was blocked.
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“Captain Wilson, what the hell are you doing?” my rescuer demanded. “We have a critical patient here!”
Alex glanced at me, his eyes wide with shock, but his words were cold. “Dr. Ross was scraped by a rebar. It’s more urgent. Tetanus can be fatal. You’ll have to wait.”
