Explore "A Trace of Memory" by Keith Laumer on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I scrambled to the edge of the pit and played the light around inside. It shelved back at one side, and a dark mouth showed, sloping down into the earth -- the hiding place from which the globes had swarmed.
Foster was wedged in the opening. I scrambled down beside him, tugged him back to the level ground. He was still breathing; that was something.