Part 3 of 7 · 4 minThe Rising Tide

The water didn't just rise; it crept in like a thief in the night, seeping through every crack and gap in the ferry's rotting hull. Meera felt the cold dampness spreading across her boots before she heard the drip-drip of water hitting the floorboards. She kicked off her shoes and stood up, pulling a rusted oil can from her medical satchel to scoop out the flooding deck. Inside lay their last reserves: dried rice, two bottles of iodine, and Meera's medicated cream for treating burns.

"Look at this," Ravi shouted over the howling wind, his face smeared with rain and grime as he hauled a heavy metal crate toward the stern. "The beast is sinking us, but now we're drowning in our own supplies."

Meera knelt, using the oil can to bail water into a leaking duffel bag they had dragged aboard earlier. "We need to get higher," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. "If the tide keeps rising, the creature will reach us faster than we can row. But if we stay here, the water will swallow everything that matters."

Ayan, still clutching his small backpack, watched the glow beneath the surface intensify. The unnatural hum had grown louder, vibrating through the wood of the boat and into their bones. "Maybe we should swim," he suggested, his eyes wide. "Ravi said there's a high point on the bank. If we can reach it before the ferry sinks completely…"

Ravi spat into the water, sending a spray of rain back toward the dark surface. "Swimming? In this storm? With that thing watching from below?" He pointed a shaking finger at the water. "That thing isn't done with us yet. And now something else is joining it."

Meera stood up, wiping her hands on her skirt. She grabbed a length of scrap metal rope she had found earlier and tied it securely around a salvaged engine part from the back of the boat. "We need a raft," she said quickly. "Something to keep us above water if the ferry gives out. I'll make one while Ravi checks the compass again."

Ravi grunted, half-expecting her to be foolish, but he nodded reluctantly as Meera began cutting strips from an old oil drum with a jagged knife. The metal clanged against the drum's rim, echoing sharply in the sudden silence of the storm. Ayan watched silently, his small hands gripping the edge of the boat tightly.

As Meera worked, Ravi crouched near the bow, trying to read the wet map one more time. His fingers trembled as he smoothed out the soggy paper with a piece of cloth. "The currents are shifting," he muttered. "We're moving north faster than I thought. If we don't correct course soon, we'll end up in open sea."

"Then guide us carefully," Meera said, lifting the makeshift raft and testing its buoyancy. It bobbed lightly on the surface, unstable but strong enough to carry them if needed. She tossed it into the water beside the ferry and secured it with ropes. "Hold on tight, Ayan. If we have to jump, this will keep us afloat."

Ayes nodded, climbing onto the raft as Ravi helped him stabilize his balance. The boy's small hands gripped the metal rim of the drum tightly. Meera followed, pulling her flare gun from her satchel and checking the charge. Only two shots remained.

The hum beneath them grew louder again, almost rhythmic, like a heartbeat rising from deep water. Ravi looked back at the creature circling below, its massive shadow flickering against the stars above. "It's not just hunting us anymore," he said quietly. "It's herding us."

Meera pressed the flare gun into Ayan's hand. "Keep this ready. If it comes close again, use a shot to blind it. Aim for the eyes, then swim to the raft."

Ayan nodded, though his fingers trembled as he tightened his grip on the weapon. The water lapped at the edge of the boat, soaking their clothes and chilling them to the bone. Rain poured down in sheets, blurring everything into a gray nightmare. Yet beneath it all, something mechanical began to pulse—a low thrumming sound that seemed to come from inside the water itself, as if the river was breathing with them.

"Where do we go next?" Ayan asked, his voice barely audible over the storm.

Ravi glanced at the compass, then back at the glowing depths. "North," he answered. "But not far. There's a ledge ahead—high enough to keep us above the rising tide."

Meera adjusted her pack and stepped onto the ferry again, grabbing a flashlight that flickered weakly. "Then let's make our way there. But we move fast. The raft is our last line of defense if the boat fails."

As they prepared to launch themselves into the storm, Ayan whispered something under his breath, barely audible even to those closest to him. "I can hear voices," he said softly. "They're calling my name from inside the water…"