Then it was there.
The faintest of pulses.
“She’s got a pulse, but she’s not breathing,” he told the others as he shifted positions, so he was kneeling beside her head. It would be the cruelest of jokes to lose her now, when she must have taken her final breath while they were digging her out, unaware that help was mere moments away.
Matthew covered her mouth with his own, pinched her nose closed, and breathed into her, sharing his life with her, willing her to take a breath, to stay with him.
The first breath did nothing, so he covered her mouth again and breathed into her a second time.
“Come on, baby, don’t leave me,” he whispered as he smoothed a curl off her face. Her skin was still warm, and while her heart was still beating, if she didn't take a breath soon, he was going to lose her. Elijah knelt beside her and cut the ropes binding her wrists.
The second breath did nothing.
Again, he covered her mouth and forced air into her starving lungs.
Third time was the charm.
* * * * *
10:31 P.M.
Something warm forced its way inside her.
For some reason Grace wasn’t afraid.
The terror of being buried alive had faded and she found herself hovering in a fluffy, white blanket.
Peace.
That’s what it felt like.
Only it was a peace unlike anything she had ever experienced before.
This peace was all encompassing. It touched every part of her and wrapped her up all nice and snug. It took away every fear, every doubt, every regret and replaced them with a calm that seemed to inhabit her, possess her even.
Was she dead?
Was this Heaven?
Grace was almost afraid to open her eyes and take a look around her. The complete and utter darkness of the coffin was still fresh in her mind. The horror she’d felt in those long hours lying in there, unable to move, knowing with each breath she took she consumed a little more of the precious oxygen supply she had left, it felt detached. Like she had experienced those things and yet she hadn’t.
But if she opened her eyes, she might find she was back in that dark place.
She couldn’t stand that.
Not now that she’d had a taste of this peace.
The warmth rushed through her body again and this time it was accompanied by a faint buzzing sound.
Bees?
No, not bees.
A voice.
Only there were no voices in the coffin, only her own desperate screams for mercy, the echo of her weeping, and then the harsh rasp of each breath she took.
“Come on, baby, don’t leave me.”