TONIGHT: You heard it right, we are in dire need of more wiggles. Let’s tune in with Miranda, she’s on the scene.
“Thank you,” I said stepping up to the old man. “Thank you so much.” “Now don’t worry about it. We’re glad to have you. More hands the better.” “I’ve been walking for days, hoping, and praying they wouldn’t find me. Day and night I’ve walked and we haven’t said a word. Haven’t lit a fire. We’ve walked through snow and ice.” “We understand,” the old man said with a smile. “But you're safe now, here with us.” “I can’t tell you how much that means to me,” I said, hugging the man, then pulling back, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s just…” The old man put his arm on my shoulder. “I understand. Don’t worry about it. We’ve all had it hard. We’ve all lost loved ones to them. But with us, you’ll be safe. What’s your name?” “Me?” I say, looking down at my shoes. “James,” I say, then look up at him and stick my hand out. “Call me James.” “Welcome, James. The name’s Gary Prescott. Used to be a furniture salesman. Not anymore,” he said with a sad smile. He had a long, grey beard that hung down to his maroon plaid jacket. The frost of his breath blew up into dark night sky above him. “Lost my wife on the fourth day of the outbreak. When it has spilled into the streets and there was no more hoping it would just end on its own. Not when they are coming through your window… I escaped in our old RV and ran out of gas around the Johnson Dike, that’s where I met up with this family.” He pointed to an older woman and man with a teenage girl sitting on a log next to a fire. “We’ve been on foot since. It’d be nice to get some more help here. We’re trying to make a start of it. We’ve been told of a trick to keep them away.” “Oh, have you?” I asked curiously. “Yeah, but where’d you say your family is?” “They’re just outside, waiting for me to let them know it’s safe. They’re scared and hungry. Very hungry.” I walked over towards the bushes, which was shrouded in darkness just outside the light of the campfire. “Now be careful, James. That line of Morton's is the only thing keeping them out,” Gary said, holding up a can of Morton's table salt in his hand, the logo of little girl in her yellow dress danced as he shook the can. “Sea salt,” I clarified, looking down at the sparkling white line of salt on the ground, kicking it playfully with my foot. “What’s that you say?” “Sea salt is what keeps us out, Gary." I bent down and pressed some salt grains on my finger and stuck it in my mouth. "This processed stuff? It's just no good.” I leaned my head back and called out in my native tongue, filling the dark forest with my screeching. My family slowly came out of the shadows. Out of the dark to feed. Crawling over the line of salt and towards the four humans. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” Gary whimpered, and the others in the group screamed, getting off the log. “Relax, Gary, this will all be over very quickly.”
