We headed for the coast, arms full of bones that we hoped the sea would bring back to us as their former living selves. Everyone knew someone who'd brought someone back from the coastal towns, claiming they'd tossed an armful of decay and seen a breathing loved one wash ashore.
There were eighteen of us in the group that set out and thirty five returned. I got my son back, others came home with their spouses or siblings. The only person left out was Miriam who threw her twin sister's bones out to sea just like we did with our own and nobody washed ashore.
We were too caught up in our own miracles to ask if they were really our lost loved ones or if something in the sea was merely taking their form. If we'd put an ounce more thought into it we would have realised this long before we made the same mistake and set those bloodthirsty sea-demons loose.
Poor Miriam was utterly distraught at first but she was also the first to realise why. As far as the sea was concerned, she and the bones were the same and this if she lived then there was nobody to bring back. She was safe while the rest of us invited death and heartbreak into our homes for a second time.
I woke up to my dear little son ripping his father's throat out with teeth that looked like needles. Everything about him was changed - his eyes had become bulbous and hollow and nothing at all like the child I raised! I panicked and rushed outside to get help only to see half a dozen neighbors doing the same.
The rest weren't so lucky as us and none of us were as lucky as Miriam who'd gone to live with friends further inland. We all tried to follow her lead but most of us didn't make it. The things we brought back from our loved one's bones seem intent on bring us all back to the coast to finish this.
Lord knows they'll eventually succeed - we can't run forever.
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