Day 342

There were always footprints coming out of the water - hand prints too.
No tracks leading to the water, always to shore.
They generally lead to this opening where an underground stream pours into the dockside.
There used to be a gate covering it but it's been broken for years, the lock was torn clean off.
Never found out why until I spent the night on my cousin's boat.

He always kept it moored at the docks, used to take it out every day to fish.
Its been almost five months since he quit and left the boat to rot.
After weeks of bugging him he relented and we spent the day fishing and moored up for the night.
It was so peaceful, you could hear the river flowing into the low tide and the faintest breeze.
I had a hard time falling asleep though, kept thinking I heard slapping sounds.

Reminded me of playing in the mud when I was a kid, it had that same earthy splat sound.
I thought some night air would do me some good so I stepped out onto the deck for a while.
That wet slapping noise was louder outside so I looked around for the source.
Part of me thought it would be something like a fish that had gotten caught on land, other fishermen
would just toss the unwanted ones overboard and leave them floundering about.

I had a good look around and saw vague movement towards the base of the boat but the noise was
coming from further away, nearer the rear end of the boat than the side.
Just as I was heading towards the back of the boat my cousin came hurtling through the cabin door.
He looked so scared, dragged me back under into the lower cabin and locked the door to the deck.
Wouldn't answer any of my questions, just said to sleep and wait until morning.

I slept badly, all I could hear was that slapping sound right above me.
When I woke up my cousin was unlocking the door to the deck and peering out.
I asked him what was up with last night, why he'd acted so weirdly and he pointed outside.
The deck was covered in muddy prints - dozens of hands and feet scattered everywhere.
As I looked over the edge of the boat I saw that they climbed up the side of it.

It was the talk of the waterfront all week.
The day They never reached the river.
From then on those muddy marks were found on most of the boats.
People were worried but they just washed it off and carried on as normal.
They only began to flee when folk started going missing, when They walked on land.