The Dysasters (The Dysasters #1)

“You couldn’t have,” Sabine said. “The way you two were sucking face, there’s no way you were pissed.”

“Not just that,” Foster spoke slowly, staring at Tate. “I wasn’t pissed at the football game. Not before Cora collapsed. I’ll admit to not wanting to be there, but I did have popcorn and Skittles, and it was my birthday. I felt fine.”

“And I was happy. I was playing a game I love surrounded by my friends and family. We didn’t cause it to happen, Foster.” Tate was blinking fast, trying to keep the tears from spilling from his eyes.

“They did it,” Sabine said.

Everyone turned to her.

“Who did what?” Foster said.

Sabine practically bounced out of her chair with excitement. “Them! Those three men and that woman who are after you. You call them the Core Four. Foster, you said Cora kept you off the grid for the past year because of them, but Tate didn’t know anything about them, right?”

“Right,” Tate said.

“But they knew about Tate because: one, they were there that night.” Sabine held up her fingers, ticking off points. “Two, Cora had fake ID’s made for both of you, so she had to at least have had the suspicion that the Core Four knew where to find Tate. Three, Cora bought this secret place for you and the other kids you’re trying to find.”

“Four,” Foster added. “The Core Four are working with my adopted dad—the man responsible for altering our DNA. He created the records. He must know where each kid lives.”

“Each kid except you,” Tate said pointedly. “Which is why he had to draw you out.”

“Foster, oh my god, what if the Core Four are attached to the elements, too? What if they called a tornado?” Sabine said.

“In a terrible way that makes perfect sense,” Foster agreed.

“Core Four, hell. I’m calling those assholes the Fucktastic Four from here on out,” Finn said.

“I like it,” Foster said.

“Me too, babe,” Sabine made a kissy face at Finn.

“But why would the Fucktastic Four do that?” Tate asked. “People died!”

“To draw me out.” Foster’s voice had flattened. “They couldn’t find Cora and me, but they knew where you were, Tate. And they also knew something was going to kick in on our eighteenth birthday—something that binds us to air.”

“You’re right. The Fucktastic Four would definitely know that whatever Dr. Stewart did to us manifests on our eighteenth birthday,” Tate said. “So, what? They hang out at the football game and call a tornado down on my hometown because they have a hunch you might be there?”

“What if it was more than a hunch? More than might be there?” Sabine asked with dread shadowing her voice.

“You mean like whatever it is inside those two that binds them to air also draws them together?” Finn said.

“I guess that might be true,” Foster said.

“But you didn’t feel drawn to Missouri?” Sabine asked.

Foster snorted. “Uh, no. Never.” Then she paused and added. “But I didn’t need to feel drawn to Tate. Cora was doing that for me. She found Tate. She brought me there to him.”

“Right! But what might have happened if Cora hadn’t found me? Maybe you would’ve ended up at that football game anyway,” Tate said.

“Well, I think we’re going to find out. From the files Cora left us we’ve figured out that there are three other pairs who will be having their eighteenth birthdays in the next three months,” Foster said. “We only have what we think are the states where each of them was born, and none of them are in the same state. If we’re right about the pairs being drawn together on their eighteenth birthdays, then the next two will be coming together in the next three days.”

“But wait, what if it’s not just these other people who are drawn to each other? What if you have to add the disaster to amp up the attraction and to make their connection with the element manifest?” Sabine said. “Did either of you do anything with air before that football game?”

“Never,” Tate said.

“No. I tried to use my Jedi mind trick, but it never worked well until after the first tornado. Not that it works one hundred percent of the time now, as you two already know. But doing anything else—like with the weather or air—never entered my mind,” Foster said.

“So, we have three days and then two more kids are turning eighteen and probably facing another major disaster,” Sabine said.

“Water is next,” Tate said. When everyone gawked at him, he added. “I figured it out from Stewart’s equations. He bonded Foster and me with oxygen molecules when we were barely embryos, and then bombarded us with gamma rays. The next two he bonded with H2O—water.”

“We have to find those next two kids, like now,” Sabine said.

“We’ve been trying to, but those files are crazy hard to understand,” Foster said.

“Show us,” Sabine said. “Hey, Finn and I have already been sworn to secrecy, and I’m a sophomore pre-med student. I’m damn good at research. We can help. Let us help.”

Foster met his gaze and Tate shrugged. “It’s Cora’s stuff, so it’s up to you.”

“Let’s do this,” Foster said. “Come on. I’ll show you the Batcave. Bring the s’mores.”



* * *



“Okay, seriously. Your crazy daddy is brilliant,” Sabine said, glancing up from a thick file of equations and graphs and medical records. She was sitting on the floor of Cora’s office next to Foster with files spread all around them.

“He’s not my dad,” Foster said.

“Hey, sorry. This has to be really hard for you,” Sabine said.

“No. Yes.” Foster sighed and swept back her thick fall of red hair, retying her ponytail. “It’s hard, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.” She paused and looked from Sabine to Tate and Finn, who were sprawled on the floor beside them. “I shouldn’t take it out on any of you. I just … How about we don’t call him my dad ever again?”

“Done,” Tate said.

“Fine by me. The guy’s an ass,” Finn said.

“Anyone who could hurt Cora and you isn’t worth being called dad,” Sabine said.

P.C. Cast, Kristin Cast's books