The Dysasters

by P. C. Cast

  “Savage,” her lips parted gently as she took in the gray waves reaching like mountains across the shore break. “Yes, that’s a good way to describe it.” She paused, closing her eyes and bending down until the end of her ponytail fell into the water and splayed under the surface like threads of gold.

  The way she listened to the water was the most beautiful thing Bastien had ever seen. Every nerve in his body, every tendril of his soul yearned to reach out to her.

  Her eyelids fluttered open and she abruptly righted herself, her cheeks deepening to a bright coral reef pink. “Sorry, I’m not sure what came over me.” She held on to the dripping end of her ponytail as she braced herself against a sudden gust of wind. “But you definitely shouldn’t be here. I um, I have to be. I can’t explain it exactly, but I do.”

  The water cooled and thickened to jam around his feet. They were coming. “I’m staying here, me.”

  The wind intensified, hurling sprays of salty water against them.

  “It’s getting worse.” Her eyes seemed to darken, reflecting the same oyster gray as the roiling waves.

  “Ouragan,” hurricane. Bastien whispered as the first droplets of rain splattered against his shoulders.

  Violent splashing pulled Bastien’s attention from the darkening sky and ominous, curling waves to the shore behind him. A lean, scraggly beast sprinted toward them, its tongue flopped listlessly to the side as it splashed closer.

  Bastien tensed, readying himself as the long-legged beauty skipped a few paces toward the animal and crouched down, her arms spread wide.

  “No!” Bastien leaped forward as the two of them collided, the young woman falling back onto her butt in a splash of water and giggles.

  “It’s fine,” she laughed, coming to her knees and wrapping her slender arms around the dog’s lean neck. “She just wanted to say hello.” She buried her face into the wet fur with a smacking kiss noise.

  Bastien unclenched his fist and tentatively extended his hand. Growing up, he hadn’t had a dog or any animal, so he wasn’t certain if the scruffy dog would take to him. She pressed her cold nose against his fingers and, with a wag of her tail, licked the rain pooling in his palm.

  A sharp whistle split the air, followed by a shout.

  “Bugs-a-Million!” A gravelly voice called over the increasing wind and pelting rain. “Bugsy, ol’ girl, get back here!”

  The young woman waved to the man in the same graceful, fluttering way she had to Bastien as she hooked the fingers of her free hand under the big dog’s collar. “She’s no bother!” she shouted, leading the bouncing dog to its owner.

  Bastien bit his lower lip, nodding at the shadows circling his feet before following her to shore.

  “Really, it was nice having another visitor,” the young woman was saying as she twirled one of the dog’s floppy ears between her fingers.

  “I appreciate you returning my girl to me, Miss…”

  “Charlotte,” her curtsey echoed the old Southern politeness and charm he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. “And this is Bastien.”

  She remembers! Bastien silently cursed himself for not having enough sense to ask for her name.

  The gentle creases around the old man’s eyes deepened with a squint. “Well, I’ll be goddamned. No wonder you two are out here acting like this is some regular ol’ day when there’s a big storm coming.” He scratched the top of the dog’s scruffy head. “And it’s raining again. Damn.” He peered down at his companion who looked up at him expectantly. “Not a good sign, ol’ girl. Not a good sign at all. But goddammit, we found ’em. We still got it, Bugsy.” Then he lifted his gaze to the two of them again. “My name is Linus Bowen. I live down the beach a couple miles. Do either of you have a phone? I need to make a call. Fast. It’s an emergency. Then I need to talk to you kids. It’s going to sound crazy, but—”

  “Mr. Bowen!”

  The old guy whipped around with the agility of a much younger man. A switch flipped inside the huge dog’s head, sending it from a tongue-lolling sweetheart to a dangerous beast. She hugged Bowen’s side, lips curled back in a growl as a petite black woman, flanked by three men, seemed to materialize from the rain and wind.

  “Like I said before, you’re a hard man to find.”

  29

  CHARLOTTE

  As soon as the four people appeared the change in Bugsy’s demeanor reflected the tension that was visible in Bowen—and that had Charlotte instantly on guard.

  “Kids,” the old man positioned himself and the big dog between Bastien and her, and the four approaching interlopers while he spoke urgently under his voice to them. “Whose car is that in the parking lot?”

  “Mine,” Charlotte said.

  “Good. You and the boy get out of here. Now. I’ll handle them.” Then Bowen started forward as if to cut the four off from getting too close. “Fine. You found me. I’ll come back with you.” As he spoke he motioned behind his back for Charlotte and Bastien to flee.

  Charlotte looked at the handsome, dark-haired Cajun. Their eyes met.

  “Something feels wrong,” he said.

  “I think so, too,” Charlotte agreed.

  “I don’t like the old guy’s odds,” Bastien said.

  “Then let’s help even them.” Charlotte folded her arms across her chest and stood her ground. From the corner of her eye she saw Bastien mirroring her.

  Bowen glanced back at them and whispered, “Kids! Get out of here!”

  “No, sir,” Bastien said. “Not unless you come with us. It’s not good to be out here in this storm.”

  “Aww, how sweet. And convenient. You’ve already made friends with Bastien and Charlotte. That makes everything so much easier,” said the petite black woman with mean eyes.

  “How do you know our names?” Charlotte stepped up beside Bugsy.

  “Yeah, I’d like to know that, too,” Bastien said, moving so that he stood on her other side.

  “I see Bowen’s already been filling your heads full of lies about us,” said the woman.

  “Eve, I just met these two kids. I haven’t said anything to them except that they need to get the hell out of here, and that’s not a lie. I don’t lie. I’ve lived a long time and learned decades ago lies make things worse. So, you know I’m telling you the honest truth when I say this,” the old man looked from Charlotte to Bastien. “You two need to get to that car and get out of here. These four aren’t just after me. They’re after you, too. And they’re bad news.”

  “Shut it, old man. In one day you’ve been enough trouble for a lifetime,” shouted one of the men. He had a strange shock of white hair that lifted from his head like it’d been poured from a Dairy Queen vanilla ice cream spout.

  “That’s not a polite way to talk to your elders,” Bastien’s voice deepened with anger.

  “No one asked you, water boy,” the man sneered.

  “Luke! Enough!” snapped Eve before she refocused on Charlotte, Bastien, and Bowen. Charlotte watched the woman’s face attempt to form a smile, but she thought it looked more like a grimace. “Okay, I’m going to make this fast because I’m really sick of this weather.” She wiped a hand across her rain-soaked face. “Charlotte and Bastien, I’d like to introduce myself and my brothers to you. I am Eve Stewart, and these three are Luke, Matthew, and Mark Stewart.” Each man nodded as she called his name, though the handsome, dark-haired Mark looked obviously uncomfortable. “We know your names because you’re the reason we’re here.”

  “Why?” Charlotte said.

  “And how could you know I would be here? No one knows that,” Bastien added.

  Eve’s smile looked genuine for the first time. “Oh, that’s easy. We knew you’d be here because Mark drew you here with this storm. You see, Mark is special like you two are special. He also has a connection with water.”

  Charlotte felt as if the woman had punched her in the gut. How did Eve know?

  “What do you mean, our connection to water?” Charlotte said.


  “Oh, no need to be coy. Tell Bastien and Charlotte how well you understand them, Mark,” Eve said.

  Mark had been staring out at the angry ocean, but at Eve’s words he pulled his gaze away and looked from Charlotte to Bastien. Charlotte thought she’d never seen such hopelessness in anyone’s eyes before—ever. And that included her own reflection during the emptiest, most horrible times in her life.

  “You’ve always loved water, especially the ocean. It started when you were children, probably about six years old.”

  Charlotte jerked in surprise and sensed Bastien reacting the same.

  “You’re most at peace in or on the water,” Mark continued, speaking slowly and carefully so that he could be heard above the crashing waves and whining wind. “You even sense things about it, see things or hear things, that no one else does, and when you’ve tried to explain those things to friends or family, no one ever understands you.”

  “What else?” Bastien said.

  “You were drawn here today, this morning, without understanding why, but you had to come here,” Mark said.

  “This is too weird,” Charlotte said. “Look, if you have something to tell us, fine. I’ll give you my phone number and maybe we can talk sometime, but not here. Not now.”

  “Your parents went to a lot of trouble to conceive both of you at a special clinic in Portland, Oregon. Did you know that?”

  Eve’s words made Bastien’s body go rigid as Charlotte felt ice enter her blood. Her mother and father had told her over and over about the fertility treatments at the famous clinic in Portland, and how much the in vitro fertilization had cost—like it had been Charlotte’s fault her mother’s uterus was unable to conceive a child.

  “Who exactly are you? What does Mr. Bowen have to do with this? And what do you want?” Bastien’s voice was flint.

  “Your annoying questions have given me an excellent idea,” Eve said. “Bowen can help me explain all of this because he doesn’t lie. So, tell them what this has to do with you, old man.”

  Mr. Bowen ignored Eve and Mark, speaking only to Charlotte and Bastien. “My grandson, Tate, he’s like you two, only he has a special connection with air. His friend, Foster, has it, too. There are eight of you—four pairs. Each pair is connected to an element. They’re after me because my grandson and Foster have managed to stay free of them and they’re trying to trap the two of them by grabbing me. Who are the four of them? Well, they’re jackasses who are brainwashed goons for the biggest jackass of them all—the scientist who did this to you, Rick Stewart. Far as I can figure, he’s crazy as a damn bedbug.”

  “That’s it, you old pain in the ass! I’m so done taking your shit!” Luke started toward Bowen. His hands were raised, and Charlotte saw that they were glowing, like candle wicks, causing the rain falling on them to sizzle and turn to steam!

  Mr. Bowen’s big dog, who had been growling softly ever since the four had made an appearance, stalked forward, teeth bared menacingly.

  Luke’s small, mean eyes glittered with excitement. He snarled at Bugsy and stomped at her, obviously baiting the dog. And it worked. Barking furiously, Bugs-a-Million lunged forward.

  “Bugsy, no! Come back—” Bowen began. The big dog paused and turned her head to look at her master.

  Charlotte hadn’t been able to take her eyes from Luke’s burning hands, so she saw everything—how Luke flicked his wrists, somehow throwing the glowing flames at Bugsy!

  The flames landed on the dog, lighting her fur instantly as Bugsy’s growl changed to howls of pain.

  “No!” Bowen shouted. He ripped the sweatshirt from around his waist and sprinted to the dog, but as the fire caught more of her fur, Bugsy panicked and ran. “Bugsy! Come, girl! Come!” Bowen cried as he rushed after her.

  No, please don’t let that sweet dog burn to death! Charlotte was frozen with horror. She couldn’t think. She only felt. Instinct flooded her as the beautiful, magical voices echoed from the ocean and filled her ears with words she suddenly understood, “Put it out! Put it out! Put it out! Drown fire! Drown fire! Drown fire!” The strange song blasted through her mind until Charlotte couldn’t bear the pressure of it anymore, and the words exploded from the depths of her soul as she screamed them: Put it out! Drown fire!

  From the seething ocean an enormous arm of water lifted. As if it was sentient, it crashed past the shoreline, lifted again, gaining energy and speed as it followed the panicked dog, passing Bowen and easily catching her, it poured over Bugsy, extinguishing every bit of the fire.

  Charlotte didn’t realize that she’d moved with the wave until her running feet tripped over a rough tuft of sea grass and she almost fell headfirst into the sand, but Bastien’s strong hand was there, steadying her and helping her to her feet.

  That’s when it happened. The instant they touched. They were at the shoreline, just yards away from Bugsy and Bowen, but Charlotte wasn’t looking at them. She only had eyes for the ocean and the beings of ethereal beauty she could finally see, just beneath the surface. The creatures, shimmering like the Northern Lights, were huge, but as graceful as hummingbirds and as delicate as butterflies as they circled and frolicked in the waves while they sang and sang and sang the wordless melody Charlotte had been listening to since she was a little girl.

  “So beautiful! I—I can’t believe how beautiful they are!” Mesmerized, she spoke to herself, as Charlotte was in a watery world of her own—until she realized Bastien was still holding her hand.

  “You can see them!” he said, staring at her with eyes wide with shock.

  Through their joined hands, Charlotte could feel him trembling. “I can.” She spoke softly, reverently, as if they were in a fantastic library or otherworldly cathedral. And then she understood. “You can hear them, too!”

  Bastien nodded, his eyes bright with tears. “I can! I have always been able to see them, but I’ve never heard them before now, this moment.”

  “And I’ve always heard them, but never seen them. Not until now.”

  “Don’t they terrify you?”

  Charlotte turned with Bastien to face Mark. He was standing beside them, his handsome face white with fear as he stared out at the waves.

  “No,” Charlotte answered automatically, and though she wanted to reach out to the man, she stopped herself and held tighter to Bastien’s hand. “How could they terrify anyone? They’re beautiful.”

  “They’re beyond beautiful. They’re magique,” Bastien said.

  “Isn’t this interesting?” Eve joined them. “I don’t see anything or hear anything, but you water people obviously do. And what Bastien and Charlotte see isn’t terrifying.” Eve shot Mark a pointed look. “If I wasn’t such a good sister, I’d say told ya so.” Then she called over her shoulder to her other two brothers. “Matthew, tie up the old man. Luke, come here and give me a hand with these two.”

  Charlotte’s gaze went to Bowen and Bugsy. The old man was on his knees beside his dog, running trembling hands over her singed, but apparently uninjured body.

  “Why are you tying him up?” Charlotte felt as if she must be in a waking dream that was part fantasy, part nightmare. It was hard for her to focus on anything but the alluring sirens that were calling … calling … to her.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. We’re not going to hurt him. It’ll just make things easier,” Eve said. “Now it’s time for you and Bastien to come with us.”

  “Huh? Where?” Charlotte struggled to think through the pull of the ocean.

  “You’re going to love it. It’s an island all to ourselves. We’ll go there and Mark will show you how to control your powers,” Eve said.

  “Powers?” Bastien sounded as foggy as Charlotte felt, and his gaze kept drifting out to the seething waves.

  “Well, yes. Like commanding a wave to put out a dog fire. Nice trick,” Eve said. “Only bigger and better.”

  “Wait, I need time to think about what’s going on,” Charlotte began. A gust of wind caught her hair, whippin
g it across her face, and she pulled her hand from Bastien’s to clear her vision …

  The singing stopped. The shimmering creatures dissolved into waves.

  Charlotte’s mind cleared.

  “No. We’re not going with you.” Bastien’s voice was flint.

  “I’m with Bastien. If we have to pick a side, I’m taking Mr. Bowen’s. As my grandma would say, setting his dog on fire was impolite, and that’s about as bad as it gets if you’re a Southern woman.”

  Eve shrugged her shoulders. “Have it your way. If you’re on Bowen’s side, we’ll treat you like we treat him. Luke, tie them up.”

  Bastien and Charlotte moved together, backing slowly into the ocean, with Luke, hands alight, following them—though he hesitated at the waterline as the reaching waves hissed and steamed at his feet.

  “Now this is truly a pain in the ass!” Eve snapped. Her face was twisted into a mask of anger and very deliberately, she stomped her foot—and the sandy ground under their feet shook.

  Charlotte gasped in shock.

  “Charlotte! Bastien! You kids get away! Get out in that water and swim!” Bowen shouted at them.

  Charlotte could see that Matthew was closing on Bowen, who was standing in front of a soggy, singed, and panting Bugsy.

  “Ready to swim?” Bastien spoke low, for her ears only.

  She’d just begun to nod when everything changed. A voice boomed across the beach.

  “Get the fuck away from my g-pa, you dickhead!”

  Charlotte looked up the beach to see a couple—a very muscly, very pissed-off-looking guy and a pretty redhead—sprinting across the sand toward them.

  “Isn’t this your saying, Mark: when it rains it pours?” Eve spoke sarcastically, turning with her brother to face the two newcomers.

  30

  TATE

  “Okay, look down that road as we drive by. See that big yellow house on stilts?” Tate lifted one hand from the wheel and pointed.

  “Yeah, I see it,” Foster said, peering around Tate.