Feeling the weight of the sun's light going down, the weight of the space rifle in my hands grew too. I lifted my gun to the coffin, my hands shaking all the while. I could have pulled the trigger by accident with all my trembling.

"I will kill you," threatened back. "I will kill you if you get out of there. Stop moving until I figure out what you want!" I looked over and saw as the light was at its final seconds. There was no time left. The only thing I was more afraid of than a stranger on Mars wass the dark. I needed to get to the hut. What was I to do?

The coffin kept kicking none the less, and serious dents started to appear as the body inside kicked from within. Harder and harder it kicked. The wooden oak shell chipped and I feared that the body and the fury would escape the coffin and aim to kill me. I had no time to consider why this man was sent here alive. But all I could think was that he may be a heartless criminal and that Earth wanted to get rid of him for good. Why couldn't they just kill them.

Active murder, not passive murder. I shouted that I'd kill him, again, but to no avail. I couldn't comprehend his shouts. Who was to say he could comprehend mine? The sun was gone, the hovercycle light began to flicker. The spirits of the night were crawling on my back and in my fear I shot my gun. BANG!

Silence. Thank God, I missed. It was an accidental shot. And the bullets sprayed across the red sand off to the side in the dark. But finally the body in the coffin was still. The body was sure to have heard the shot. I was scared out of my mind and finally I decided. I decided I would deal with this later.

I ran to the coffin and it started to shift and kick again. "No!" I shouted. I wanted the commotion to end. I wanted my piece. This fear was unbearable. The wood oak chipped as the body started kicking more ferociously than before. I shoved the heavy coffin with all my might down into the slope of the grave. One more budge and it slid straight in and flattened back into a horizontal at the bottom. The head of it hit hard against the grave wall.

The shouts continued with the pain and the kicking continued as I went for my shovel in the hovercycle light. The tension was high as I meant to beat the creature from escaping the grave. I shoveled some dirt and through it onto the coffin where the chips were splintering. I shoveled some more and dumped it on the coffin again. Then more, and again. More. More. More.

The shouts went away and the sound of kicking muffled under the heap of dirt that vibrated with each hit. The more I buried the body alive the safer I felt. I buried him more and more until finally the hole was filled and I patted the mound. I listened.

I listened for the heartbeat of Mars and sure enough could no longer hear the kicking or screaming of the body. I fell on my butt, out of breath, full of relief. I forgot I was scared of the dark for only a moment until the hovercycle's undependable headlight flickered again and I hurried to grab the gun and the shovel and hopped back on the hover to return back to the hut. I parked and went inside.

I turned on all the lights. And when I got to the kitchen I pulled the curtains so no space monsters could see me inside. I was paranoid as hell. I poured myself some hot chocolate and sat in the middle of the living room protected by my fortress of books and threw a blanket over me. How old was I, four? There were too many adult books around me to suggest that.

But as I put my hot cocoa aside and laid on my back looking up at the ceiling, I remembered when I was young. And the way I would deal with spiders. I saw how my father would grab a sandal and just smack a spider on the carpet. Dead. Pick it up with a paper towel and throw it away. That was it. But for me, I had a different approach. I would stare at the spider. Think about doing it dad's way, cower, then grab for a clear plastic cup and put it on top of the spider so it would be trapped where I could see it. I would put something heavy on top of the cup so the spider couldn't escape. There. I was safe. I would consider sliding a piece of paper under the cup to transport the spider outside, but I'd decide that was too risky. I would then try to get the courage to get the spider out of the house or kill it fast but it would be no use. I would just stare at the spider. Staring, staring. Feeling guilty. And over time, the spider would try all it's might to escape, until with time it would give up. Time would kill it. My cowardice would kill it. I had neither the courage to kill it or set it free. It was passive killing. Let nature take care of it.

I fell asleep.

In the morning I woke to the sun blaring in my face through the cracks of my book fortress. But there was more. The walls of my hut started to shake. I jumped to my feet and held the walls of my book fort so it wouldn't fall. I looked outside and through the window a streak of white entered the atmosphere. I watched it with worry, considering if it were another round of coffins. I looked to the radio with a different thought however: What if someone finally heard me? Heard my call about the live coffin? If someone was here to help me with the coffin, then I had to go unbury it right at once. I ran to gather my suit but stopped under the threshold of my bedroom. I couldn't go outside. They would see me. They would see me unbury the coffin and wonder what the hell I was doing. Then they would likely unbury the coffin, and see someone was alive. I'd been called out for attempted murder. Would it be worse if the body died? Maybe I could get away with claiming moment of insanity. They'd understand right? It'd be their fault for locking me up here for so long. Then again, best play it cool. There was more at stake here. Much more.

I hear the walls of the hut calm and feel the landing of the space pod on Mar's crust. I walk back to the kitchen and try to see where the pod landed. However, I see something else. A storm brewing. Along the horizon a massive sandstorm was collecting and coming fast. Sand started to cut at the kitchen window and leave minute scratches. I cursed and looked once more defeatedly for the pod. There was no sight of it. I then ran over to trigger the window shutters all over the house. Soon the metal shutters lifted and turned closed to protect the house and the indoor farm out back. It seemed like night again even though it was only morning. The sound of the storm came in full volume within the hour. This time shaking the hut worse than when the pod broke the atmosphere. I wondered about the pod, and if the newly sent coffins (I assumed the arrival was another pod of coffins like the one yesterday) would weather the storm. Of course they would. The pods these days could fall to the bottom of the deepest sea on Earth under the highest pressure, and never suffer a crack.

No one came that day. Not a knock. At least I heard no knock. How would I? I was certain it was just coffins. The whole day I considered the body in the coffin. And I wondered if I was just letting someone die, just like the itsy-bitsy spiders of my childhood. I was stronger than my child self. I should go and unbury that man. He deserves to live. If he's deranged, there should have been a note attached to that coffin. Then again, maybe someone sent a call about the live man in the coffin and warned not to let him free but no one knew my radio wasn't working. Who knows. All I know is I deserve a healthy conscience. I have no instructions to save the stranger. I can't be expected to risk my own life for a stranger that may be violent. Besides, there's a storm now. If he dies in that coffin of starvation, it's not my fault. It isn't murder at all. Not even passive murder. There simply isn't anything I can do.

I was readying myself for bed when the storm had calmed for less than an hour and was picking up again. At the end of that calm I heard something I hadn't heard ever since I landed on Mars. When it happened, my heart stopped and all the muscles in my body went tight. My head jolted up and I stood from my bed. It was a knock. I waited and listened to make sure. More knocks followed. A sort of whimsical rhythm. But as I waited in fear, the howling of the wind grew more intense and the knocks turned to banging. I came to my senses and decided it was my responsibility to open the door for strangers. I grabbed for my gun though. I ran to the door and in one two three, pressed the red button to let their side open. A shadowy hooded figure ran in quickly and I pressed the red button again to close the storm behind them. Now they were in the dark of the entrance tunnel. I hadn't turned the lights on. The figure seemed to show no sign of fatigue standing still and upright in the darkness.

I wanted to say, "Hello," to see who the figure was. But my voice failed me. I hadn't spoken to a real person in a long time. I was afraid of the dark but was more afraid of seeing what the figure looked like. I then pressed the yellow button and the figure stepped forward once more. I pressed the yellow button again and the door closed behind them. I had my finger on the green button now. And I wondered why I was so afraid to turn on the damn light. I could always leave and decide to see the figure in the morning. But that would be just like the undead corpse and the itsy-bitsy spider. I can't just trap people out of indecisiveness. I had to choose what to do. I had already let the person in, I couldn't just open the doors behind the person to lead them back out into the storm. That'd be inhumane. I felt the heat of the green button under my finger. I could do this. Come on. What's your life worth anyway? What if you do die? So what? You really think you'll get back home yourself? Maybe this is your escort home. You've got this. Just turn on the lights. And press the damn button!

A surge of energy lit my body from the core to the extremities and my fingertips didn't even manage to turn the lights on before I chose to press the green button. All or nothing. I even smiled. The door separating us opened and the figure stood there in the dark, hooded. The sound of the storm was escalating but my confidence actually begun to dwindle. What the hell had I done? I didn't even have the brains to hit the lights first. Who the hell was I about to confront? The figure stepped through the threshold and I cowardly recoiled backward while forgetting to breathe. Breathe damn it. Keep the color in your face fresh. Show no fear. Be cool. Be a person. Be a freaking person.

I stood like a person and tried to smile. The hooded figure stepped in and I could hear their shoes. A delicate footfall. The whispering sound of their helmet peeling back preceded a feminine gasp of fresh air. I was stunned. The person stepped out into the light of my front hall, and pulled the hood off. I bravely made eye contact. And once I did, I couldn't take my eyes off.

In front of me were the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. The color indescribable. All the lights within the hut seemed to sparkle and swim in their density. This was a beautiful woman. She smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief. Looking all around us. She gazed back at me and smiled with perfect teeth. I was floored. How was I still standing? I suddenly remembered high school and college, and how I'd learned to be cool. Be cool. Be a person, remember. She lifted her hand to shake mine. I shook hers. And she looked down with a look of admiration. "Nice handshake."

She asked for tea. I served her some. But she never drank it. She asked for toast. I said it wasn't breakfast time. She still wanted toast. I made her toast. She still didn't eat it. She stood from the kitchen table and turned her back on me. I wanted to ask her what was wrong but was still immensely shy. She spoke first.

"You didn't come. I had to walk her myself."

I cleared my throat. I felt on the spot. "There was a storm."

"That's no excuse."

I laughed honestly. "I wanted to wait. I was afraid--"

"Fear is no excuse for bravery."

I shut the hell up. I grabbed her toast and shoved it in my mouth.

She looked appalled. "That was my toast!"

My jaw froze.

She wanted to go to bed so I showed her to the guest room. "I'll explain why I'm here tomorrow," she said. She closed the door and that was it. I stood there and was utterly lost to figure out my emotions. I wasn't alone anymore. That was one thing. And that felt both scary and made me feel very warm. I also realized this was a woman. And I couldn't tell if this were the most gorgeous woman I'd ever met or if isolation had wetted my appetite or abashed my standards. I then conceived that I had completely forgotten about the coffin. That person was absolutely dead. And I forgave myself for it. Defenseless and uninformed, I had made the best decision. Wondering why this woman was here, I hoped it was to take me back to Earth. I went to bed.