Two days later, Michael was leading Evangelina into the guts of his church.

"She and her twin are both witches, but Mother Constance turned her back on the Coven years ago," Michael explained expertly. "There are several other witches from the Louisiana Coven here, too. I'm sure you'll meet them soon."

Though Evangelina wasn't entirely sure she wanted to do that, she smiled when Michael did anyway. "Why did they want her brought back to life?"

"There's a prophecy," Michael half-answered.

The room Pietre ushered them into was lit only by candles clustered in the corners of the multipurpose area. On the floor was a broad circle of power in the center of which was drawn a pentagram, the points of which each had been designated with the name of a fallen angel. Constance sat on the floor at the center of the pentagram, clutching a blanket around herself. Misty Day sat beside her and was speaking to her in low tones meant only for the recently resurrected woman.

"Mother Constance," Michael said pleasantly.

Her head turned toward him, and she peered up at him through her messy, flat hair. It had been years since he had seen her alive and even longer since he had seen her with her hair down. She looked like a stranger. She had lost the youth she had granted herself, restored to essentially the same point at which she'd died. She hadn't seen her face yet but she had seen her hands and was rubbing them over and over, trying to iron out the lines and smudge off the age spots.

"Why did you… do this to me?" Each word she said was forced out, lacking volume but intense despite that fact.

"What? Give you life?" Michael answered back, wounded by her reception. He forced a laugh he didn't feel. "That's just like you. Most people if they got killed and got brought back to life, they'd be grateful!" His temper flared, killing his smile. "I didn't do it, anyway! The Coven did! God! I'm so sick of you blaming me for everything!"

The world began to sway, like they were all standing on the deck of a ship that was rocking side to side. It was a strange sensation that quickly worsened till it was impossible to keep one's feet. Evangelina stumbled into Michael, who caught her mostly by accident when he raised his arms instinctively to protect his face.

Dust sifted down from the ceiling as the timbers buckled and compressed. The sound of creaking wood and breaking glass came from all around, not just in the church but outside as well. More noise joined the cacophony: The sounds of screeching metal and shuddering mortar; the screams of people. The floor lurched and bounced violently.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, the disturbance stopped.

"Earthquake," Constance said dazedly, still sitting on the floor.

Evangelina righted herself with a muted apology. Pietre, who had taken up a position in the doorway, made a sour face. "I think it best if we move outside."

He didn't wait to see if anyone took his advice. He just left.

Misty Day got herself to her feet with some effort. Michael looked down at Constance and almost offered her his hand but then he remembered her words just before the quake. Then he, too, just left. Evangelina hesitated only a moment then followed him.

"Come on," Misty encouraged the woman on the floor. "It's a long way up but you can do it."

"God!" Constance bleated, rolling her eyes even as they filled with tears. She clutched the blanket tight around her shoulders. "Leave me alone! Just…" She lost her vehemence quickly, too drained from her experience to work up a proper wrath. "Leave me alone."

"We shouldn't be in here if in an aftershock hits," the witch said.

"Then go!" Constance rallied one last burst of energy before sagging into herself. "I've died in an earthquake before. I'm happy to go again."

"Ya don't mean that," Misty dismissed and tried to take her by the arm.

Constance pulled away from her and tugged the blanket closer, using it like a shield. She put her back to the shawl-covered witch. Misty regarded her for a moment then sighed heavily. Then she hit the woman with a sleep spell. Constance collapsed.

"And I thought Fiona was stubborn," Misty clucked. "You do seem ta like makin' things hard on folks."

She grabbed the blanket and used it as a litter to drag Constance, in nothing but a thin nightgown, out of the church.

…

The earthquake registered at the beach as well, rattling cupboards and toppling a book case in the beach house the Harmons were borrowing. It startled Joshua, sending him on an inconsolable crying jag that only worsened whenever Vivien tried to put him down or pass him to someone else.

Unable to help, Violet's next thoughts were of the boy next door. He called himself Jett though she suspected that was a name he'd given himself. His tale of survival was dubious. By his account, he essentially survived the apocalypse by dumb luck, outliving even his parents through a series of harrowing and strange encounters. He was in his early 20's now and Violet didn't trust his luck to hold out. She excused herself and went to check on him.

The quake had disrupted the fog some, enough to allow limited visibility but the teen found she could still move about freely. She could see Jett's beach house through the haze. A large crack had opened in one side and dumped broken drywall on the sand. Her concern for his well-being was quickly abated when she saw him on the beach, standing facing the surf and shielding his eyes from the uncommon burst of sunlight through the thinned mist. Dead fish littered the beach. Scavenger birds pecked eagerly at them and one another.

"Hey!" Violet greeted as she joined him. "That was one hell of a quake."

"Yeah," he agreed with a quick look her way. "I'd ask if your family's okay, but I guess you guys are pretty quake-proof, huh?"

She flashed a tight smile. "Sort of. The baby's freaking out. Sucks because we can't explain to him what's happened. You know?"

Jett nodded but he was distracted by the rare view of the ocean. "I can't imagine what it must be like, for him."

Violet looked in the direction he was looking and saw what was distracting him. "What the hell is that?"

Out in the mist, something large could be seen silhouetted beyond the dark waves. It was the size of a small sailboat, but it had long arms that it used to pull itself through the water.

"Beats me," Jett said. "Never seen anything like it. It's too big to be a mermaid."

"Maybe mermaids are the baby forms."

"I don't think they evolve," he said. "They're not Pokémon."

Violet watched the thing in silence for a few moments. Then: "You have a boat, right?"

Jett eyed her suspiciously. "Yeeeah. So?"

She arched her brows. "So, let's go see what it is."

The young man's dubious look turned incredulous. Then came sudden clarity. "You may be death-proof but I'm not."

That killed a little of her enthusiasm. "Fine. But after it leaves, take me out there. I want to learn how to operate a boat."

"Bossy much?" Jett pulled his coat closed against the strengthening wind. It howled down the beach and made a low whistling sound through the open side of the beach house he had been staying in. "Whatever happened to please and thank you?"

Violet offered him a crooked smile. "Sorry. I…share a house with a lot of bossy people." She tried again. "Do you think you could take me out there after the Loch Ness monster leaves? Please?"

He side-eyed her then relented with a quirky, dry smile of his own. "Yeah, okay. But you're manning the harpoon."

—

Author's Note:

When I was just getting into horror movies, there was a rash of B-grade horror films on cable and in the early video stores that were so cheesy, nobody bothered keeping them away from kids. The ones about maritime horror were especially prolific. We're talking The Fog (1980s). Blood Beach. Megalodon. Piranha. I saw 'em all.

Though I prefer better-quality horror these days, I'll admit I still buy into the occasional bit of cheese and old skool. I plan to see Godzilla: King of the Monsters later this spring. Anybody who knows me knows I will always love Jessica Lange in the 80's King Kong. Without creature features, the spooky side of Hollywood would be a lot less fun.

Next time: More quake aftermath and the ghost ship hits the high seas.