I wonder who discovered the technique first. Communications have changed a lot over the past two years. We do not leave the settlement much anymore.
Perhaps the idea is so entrenched in mythology there someone tried it on a hunch. Garlic was a failure, stakes a letdown, but the sun keeps them away. Some of the old stories were true. Imagine the feeling when it worked for the first time. We are certain. Sea salt keeps the vampires away.
At last the population decline halted. We raided the abandoned warehouses, and poured a circle outside the buildings that still contained the living.
Life was different, but we had at least a chance to live again. In the evenings we stood on our doorsteps, and laughed at the creatures starving on the streets. This was a cruel world. I hope you can appreciate our actions were catharsis.
But the supply chains are forever broken. The mines do not run. Our resources dwindled. We fled to the seaside.
So the days pass. It is strange. I never thought much about salt before. But now I understand the absolute necessity of this element to human beings. We rely on every grain
Despite the sunburn the risk of heatstroke, we pray for higher temperatures. We dig the pools, and let the water flow in. Allow the sun to work its magic, and scrape up the collections from the day before.
This is by no means the worst job in our community. I would rather work here than deal with the bodies. My colleagues and I have a shared connection to the past. The Romans ran a similar gig, albeit with less risk.
Because this is no longer just a crucial ingredient for healthy bodies, and to keep the ice at bay. This is a weapon. We work at a munitions factory. And in a war, that makes us a prime target.
When the evening draws in the vampires get braver. They peek from the caves in the cliff face, and crawl to the edge of the shadows. Some get within ten feet. You can stare into their glowing eyes, and search for a humanity which no longer exists. They get no closer. Pale lines mark out our workplace, and a path back to the dormitory. We leave before sundown.
But the clouds slows our progress. We may need to make decisions about rationing soon. I am not sure our safety will be a top priority.
Perhaps as two societies we are at a stalemate. Both at the whim of the eternal sea. I will keep digging, and scraping. Trust in the stories to keep them at bay.
