Friday, November 4th, 12:30 a.m.

"Donut?" Derek asked waving a glazed O in front of Jordan's face.

A brief image of a dentist standing over her brandishing a needle gave Jordan her answer. "No thanks, I don't really like sweets."

"What? Haven't you seen any cop movies? You can't have a real stakeout without donuts!"

Jordan looked at her friend's perpetual smile and envied him. No matter what life threw at him, the smile remained, a shield against life's woes. If their roles were reversed, if his dad left him and his mom fell asleep to never wake up, he would still be wearing that goofy smile, because in his simplistic life view, he knew everything would work out in the end. If Jordan were in his shoes, she would still feel like an outcast, like a calf with two heads, so mired in the injustice of life, she wouldn't be able to see the beauty that Derek saw.

It's just not fair.

"Maybe later," she smiled.

"Deal! How much longer before something happens?"

"I'm not sure. I just know that it will."

"Oh, it's like a super thing isn't it? Like you know things before they happen?"

"Not exactly. This all started a month ago to the day, on October 3rd. I just had a feeling something was going to happen tonight, kind of like the full moon."

"But wouldn't mean that it would happen like yesterday?"

"Maybe, but I just feel like tonight is the night. I don't know how it all works."

"Hmmm," he said stroking his chin, "Am I gonna get super powers like you?"

"I don't know Derek. I don't know anything. Alright? I don't know why Albert disappeared. I don't know why my mom never woke up, and I definitely don't know why I'm the one that got left behind with this 'gift'."

The hair on Jordan's arms began to stand up, faint traces of electricity traveled between them, a tell-tale sign "The Surge" was coming. She reached into her pocket to grab a red rubber stress ball. The ball had been Derek's idea.

"I know just what you need, a stress ball! Whenever I ask too many questions, my mom squeezes hers and takes deep breaths. It really calms her down. That oughta help you too right?

At the time, the boy didn't realize how brilliant the suggestion was. Rubber is an excellent insulator of electricity. Jordan surmised when she felt it coming, she could squeeze the ball and discharge whatever she was building up harmlessly into her pocket. This method worked like a charm for minor things or when she discharged before it had built up too much. The night they'd left her mother at the hospital proved that it didn't always work.             

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After dropping Jordan off that day, Delilah Bryant never woke up. Jordan had thought it strange that her mom slept through that evening and the remainder of that night, but knew something was seriously wrong the following morning when she still hadn't woken. Delilah had not moved, not one inch, from the sprawled out position on the couch from when she'd first laid down.

Jordan took the day off from school that morning. She tried everything she could think of to try and wake her mom up. Clapping her hands in mom's face didn't work or elicit a reaction of any kind. Jordan grasped both of Delilah's shoulders and shook her as hard she could manage. Her mom's head flopped violently from side to side. Still no reaction. In desperation, Jordan pulled a matchbook out of the kitchen drawer. Jordan lit the match and held it underneath her mother's thumb until the skin started to turn color. Nothing.

Jordan rushed to the phone to call an ambulance. Her fingers fumbled over the Nine-one-one. After a few failed attempts, she dialed the number, and a cold, feminine voice answered, "Nine-one-one what's your emergency?"

Something about the tone of the woman's voice gave Jordan pause. None of these people cared about her or her situation. The second they carted her mom off in ambulance, they would all realize Jordan didn't have anyone to take look after her. They would try to find a family member to pawn Jordan on, and their search would turn up short. As far as Jordan knew, her mom was all that she had left. That would be it. Jordan would be plunged into the system where families overlooked her until she was an eighteen year old woman. This series of events flashed through her mind in an instant, and Jordan hung up the phone.

set to work on figuring out a way she could live on her own, just until her mom woke up. When they'd left for Lancet Falls, her mom had been carrying a huge lump of dollar bills. Jordan pretended not to notice; she didn't think she wanted to know where her mom got it. There was a large chance that her mother had stashed it around the house somewhere. If Jordan was going to afford food and possibly pay bills, she needed that money.

The obvious hiding place was her mom's bedroom, so Jordan systematically dismantled each piece of furniture and upended every corner of the room looking. She surveyed the trashed room, and the realization of what was happening to her started to sink in. She threw herself on the bed and stared at the imperfections of the ceiling. Attempting to fight back the tears welling up in her eyes was how she noticed one of the light fixtures was off-center compared to the others in the room, like it had been removed repeatedly. Jordan raced to kitchen and brought back a dining room chair and placed it in the center of the bed. The light fixture came loose with ease. The second it was out of the ceiling, a score of hundred dollar bills fluttered to the floor.
Jordan counted all the money. In total, it amounted to just under five thousand dollars, enough to hold her over until her mom woke up. Jordan walked to the local grocery store and bought herself enough frozen meals and milk to last her a couple of weeks. She was thankful it was during school hours when everyone was at work. A twelve year old black girl stealing a shopping cart would forever damage her reputation beyond repair.

When she got home, she tried to get her mom to eat or drink to no avail. At some point, Delilah's boss called, and Jordan informed him that her mom wasn't feeling well and might be sick for quite some time.

"Tell her not to be surprised if I hire someone else."

"Don't worry that doesn't surprise me," Jordan said politely and hung up the phone.

Jordan started walking to school, or on really cold days, Mrs. Spencer would offer to give Jordan a ride to school. One morning, she asked Jordan with a noticeable tone of disapproval a tone that Jordan was becoming all too familiar with, "How come your mom doesn't take you to school sweetie?"

"She got a new job over in Twin Falls, the night shift at a motel. She hates not being able to drive me to school, but I told her it's okay."

Mrs. Spencer stopped asking questions after that. Jordan didn't mind, Derek's mom always seemed grumpy and tired.

Jordan felt less like an outcast at school. Her lunches with Mr. Kinghorn had become a regular thing. They would talk books, and sometimes if she hadn't read one of his favorites, he would let her borrow a copy. After school, Derek always came over, and they kept lookouts at the drive-in. Derek grew tired of that in a couple of days and asked her to show him her powers.

"I don't know how, it just happens... Besides it's too dangerous."

"Don't worry! That's how all superheroes start!"

Against her better judgement, she tried to recreate what she had done that first day, but couldn't do it. Some nights, when the absence of city sounds left her alone, her thoughts became deafening, and "The Surge" would come again. She would rush outside in a panic and put it inside a light pole. The next day people would talk about the blackouts in the town, but she didn't say anything to anyone, not even Derek.

On the night of the hospital, Jordan didn't have a choice. At this point, it had been three weeks, and her mom hadn't woken up. Jordan checked on her and noticed Delilah was starting to look thin, too thin. Jordan called Derek and told him she needed help. The boy snuck out of his house, expecting superhero activities. He was disappointed that it was just a trip to the hospital, but he rebound quickly and offered Jordan his big, brace-laden smile.

"Do you know how to drive?" she asked.

"Of course I know how to drive! I play so much Grand Theft Auto. Sidekick to the rescue!"

The one time Jordan had been on a plane; it was with her dad to Disneyland. He told her that cars are responsible for way more deaths than planes, and Jordan decided she was never going to drive. Too dangerous.

The kids struggled with her mom's deadweight until they finally got her in the car. Jordan had a sneaking suspicion that her friend didn't really know how to drive. Derek had to lift his butt off the seat to even see over the steering wheel, but Jordan was still thankful he was there.

When they got to the hospital, Jordan removed her mother's driver's license from her pocket. The last thing she needed was people showing up on her door when they realized that a twelve year old was living on her own.

Jordan walked into the Emergency Room and approached a lady at the front desk that looked like she had been working a week straight, "Who should I talk to if my mom won't wake up?"

The tired lady, her name tag read Nancy, seemed confused by Jordan's question.

"What do you mean won't wake up?"

"At first, I thought she was just sleeping, but it's been three weeks, and she hasn't woke up yet."

Nancy's eyes widened and she got on a little microphone at her desk.

"I need personnel in the ER immediately," she smiled at Jordan, "We'll take care of her from here. You're such a brave girl."

Jordan knew she wasn't brave, but Nancy's compliment still made her smile. After the hospital workers rushed her mom into the hospital, everything struck Jordan all at once. She was well and truly on her own now. An orphan. Jordan felt The Surge coming, stronger than it had ever been. Jordan did her best to discharge it safely, but its strength swept her away. It coursed out into the world and shorted out everything it touched in a violet torrent leaving only pitch black in its wake. In the ensuing panic, Jordan found Derek and told him to take her home.

"You got it boss!" He said giving her a mock salute and a forced smile.

The days after that passed by with Jordan in a fugue-like state. She stopped eating, because food had lost its taste. She stopped reading, because books no longer let her escape into a magical world, where she could leave life's troubles at the door. As Jordan tossed and turned during another sleepless night, she made a decision. It was time to stop lying to herself. She couldn't do it all on her own, and her mom wasn't going to wake up. First thing tomorrow, she would call Child Protective Services and let them sort it out.

The following morning Jordan was hit by a lightning bolt of clarity. She didn't know how she knew, but whoever had left that fedora behind was coming back that night; she could just feel it. Jordan supposed it wouldn't hurt to wait one more night. Derek said his parents were okay with him doing a sleepover on a school night, and he informed Jordan that he would bring the snacks.

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By 12:45, Derek's attention was waning. He'd plummeted from the cliffs of his sugar high onto the rocks below. The lids of his eyes started to close, and his head began to droop. The falling motion of his head startled him into a state of semi-alertness. Derek slapped himself lightly on the face and shook his head back and forth.

"Those suckers aren't going to catch Normal Boy napping on the job!"

The night responded to the boy's outburst. Violet light flooded into Jordan's bedroom once more. Instead of filling her with preternatural dread, It gave her a sense of familiarity, kinship even, and Jordan revolted against it. She didn't ask for this, and she refused to be a part of it. Jordan Bryant would never be like this thing. She decided right then and there that she would do everything she could to be a force for good to counteract the violet light's otherworldly malevolence.

"This is our chance Derek. Our chance to be heroes."

Jordan expected a resounding "hoorah," and her friend would lead the way, lending her a piece of his indefatigable enthusiasm. That's when she realized how naive she'd been. Derek wasn't in a shape to respond to anything. His eyes were closed, and she could've sworn that his feet were starting to lift from the ground like he was suspended in anti-gravity.

At some point in their relationship, Jordan let Derek's talk of the unstoppable good guys get to her. She'd started to believe the boy's daydreams, that they really were invincible and they would fix everything together. Bad things happen to good people, and I'm cursed to watch, the forever outsider. Jordan felt like a fool for believing anything different.

The high, keening sound Jordan remembered from before added its voice to the silence of the night, but this time, it didn't incapacitate her. Remembering the fedora she and Derek had found, their one piece of evidence, Jordan had a revelation.

The owner of the hat was using some sort of machine. The first time the sound came, it sounded like a machine not in working order, and the hat man had spent all this time fixing it. Jordan shivered. If all this is what happened when it wasn't' working, what's going to happen now?
Jordan looked out her window to the origin of the light. A radiant ball of violet pulsed in the center of the drive-in. It reminded Jordan of a white dwarf star.

A purple dwarf.

In middle of its flickering intensity were two silhouettes. Their forms seemed to waver in place, as if they weren't fully in her world yet.

They're beaming onto our planet, just like Star Trek.
Jordan squinted through the lens of her glasses, looking for one, specific detail. A fedora. It was near impossible to make out any singular feature, but she swore she could see the band of violet fabric that had been wrapped around its brim. Jordan saw all she needed.

The Surge started gathering in the air, readying itself to use Jordan as a conduit for its sickly, sweet energy. For the first time, Jordan welcomed it. She stoked the fires of her fear, her sadness, and her rage and used it as fuel. With every ounce of self-control she could muster, Jordan fought to tame its wild, coursing nature, until she was fit to burst.

Below, the first beaming process had already reached its conclusion, and two more figures stood in the center. Jordan imagined an army of marching figures descending upon Lancet Falls.

I need to stop it.

The untamable energy worked through her. She felt it travel the length of her body unbidden. Her legs started crackling; that was the only way to describe it. The pink Air Jordan's her dad had bought her as an ironic joke were gone, replaced by seething, violet electricity.

Jordan started running.

he moved faster than her mind could process. In an instant, she'd moved from her bedroom to the front door. Jordan opened the door, and the next thing she knew, she was diving headlong into the epicenter of the violet light. The Surge exploded outward, expanding in all directions. Violet consumed everything.

Jordan's body hit the ground with a metallic thud, not the dirt and gravel she expected.

Where am I?

As Jordan's eyes adjusted, she struggled to comprehend the scene around her. She was laying on a smooth, metallic surface. An uncomfortable warmth radiated out of it. The smell of something cooking, more likely burnt, was strong in her nostrils. Jordan blinked her eyes trying to dispel the last of the brilliance from The Surge. When the last of it had cleared from her vision, the room was still blurred around the edges. Jordan's glasses were no longer on her face.

Jordan pushed herself onto her hands and knees. The surrounding room was the gray of a stormy day; the effect amplified by the room's poor lighting. Jordan squinted trying to distinguish the black, blurry outline of her glasses against the gray, metallic surface. Her hands ran along polished floor hoping she would get lucky, but she should've known by now that luck was not an attribute she possessed. Jordan's questing fingers did find something, but it was far from what she was looking for.

At Jordan's touch, the object gave way with a brittle snap. Jordan squinted at it and felt it over in her fingers. It appeared to be a black, twig, but dry bits flaked off of it at her gentle probing. Her eyes continued to scan the ground, and she saw two black forms curled up on the ground. That's when Jordan realized the object in her hand was a finger.

I've burnt them to a crisp.

A mechanical whirring sounded across the room. A section of wall slid open to reveal an inky blackness, a door.

Jordan tried to force herself into a standing position, but a deep exhaustion had taken root inside her. Jordan's legs wobbled unsteadily beneath her before failing and dumping her into a heap on the ground.

The outlines of two humanoid shapes strode out of the opening in the wall. Jordan watched the pair approach. She attributed what she saw next to her poor vision. At first, the forms walked in long, fluid strides. Their legs seemed to flow across the floor, as if the geometric strides of humans didn't quite apply to them. Across the room, Jordan would have sworn the slender humanoid shapes were at least seven feet tall, but as they got closer, they seemed to shrink and widen. By the time they reached Jordan's platform, even with her impaired vision, the two were unmistakably human.

They hovered at the edge of the raised platform, but did not seem overeager to come any closer. Jordan heard a soft muttering and realized the two were talking to one another, but in hushed tones, so that Jordan would not be able to hear it. One voice started to pick up in speed and volume, but Jordan couldn't make out what was being said.

Judging by the timbre of the speaker's voice, Jordan assumed that it was a female speaking. Although Jordan couldn't understand what was being said, she had seen enough arguments between her parents to know what was going on. The two were in fierce disagreement. The female speaker was agitated at the much quieter form. She kept waving her arms and motioning towards Jordan. Even in her frustration, the cadence of the speaker's argument had an almost melodic quality. Their language contained natural peaks and valleys juxtaposed with sharp and soft syllables, that under different circumstances, might have been beautiful.

They're arguing over me. They're scared.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Jordan marveled at what was happening before her. The irony was hard to ignore. Even beings from another world, looked at her like she was a menace, something to be afraid of. Jordan glanced at the charred outlines of corpses on either side of her.

Maybe they should be scared of me.

Jordan decided to utilize it. Until she got back home, the horror at what she had done would have to take a back seat. She took a deep breath and gathered all the force that she could muster. 

"Back Off! Both of you! I'll fry to a crisp if you come any closer," Jordan shrieked, hoping that even if they couldn't understand her, the tone of her voice would get the message across.

The quiet shape started to run in the other direction, but the female grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the platform. The woman took one step forward and held out her hand with the palm facing outward in a gesture that Jordan assumed meant "Halt." She started to speak to Jordan in low, soft tones. The tones that would be used to placate a feral animal. When Jordan didn't react, the form took another step closer, still using soothing tones. 

That's close enough.

For the first time since she'd had it, Jordan tried to summon The Surge instead of waiting for it to come to her. She intended them no harm; she just needed enough to back them off. Jordan knew deep down they were responsible for everything wrong in her life, but she couldn't bring herself to do them any harm. Jordan prayed they didn't figure that out. 

Jordan forced herself upright onto her knees and focused on concentrating the Surge into her hands. Wherever that portal had taken her, there was less ambient energy in the air to draw from. It moved sluggishly in drifting motes, but it fulfilled its purpose. Jordan had managed to recreate what had happened in her bedroom. Lavender energy swathed both of her hands. The normal, untamable quality of the energy was absent, in its place, was a domesticated animal ready to do Jordan's bidding.

The female form stopped in her tracks, cowed by the glowing hands. She pulled the other form closer and whispered something in its ear, and it bolted through the door. The same mechanical whirring accompanied his flight. Meanwhile, the woman form never stopped the soothing speech, but she didn't move a step closer.

Jordan took two steps forward and pointed downward, "Home. I want to go home," she said, no longer yelling, but trying to convey a sense of command.

The woman seemed to understand. In addition to the soothing tones, she started nodding and doing little bobbing gestures dipping her body forward.

The whirring sounded again, announcing the entrance of four more forms. At their arrival, the female sighed with relief and sprinted the length of the room and out the door. The ones that took her place appeared much larger, and they had objects in their arms. It was impossible for Jordan to tell what they were at that distance, but the way they held them confirmed they were weapons. 

She was trying to distract me while they brought in reinforcements.

Jordan envisioned them capturing her and putting her behind a plexiglass screen where aliens from all over could watch the human in a scale model of her bedroom.

Whatever happens, they're not taking me alive.

The armed humanoids inched closer to Jordan, caution informing their every step. Jordan searched around for anything she could use; anything that could give her an edge. She pondered using the Surge to scare them back, but had a feeling that course of action ended with her being put down.

The blurry silhouettes were halfway across the room and Jordan still had no ideas. Maybe if she had her glasses, or maybe if she were smarter, the situation would have played out differently, but Jordan was not made of the right stuff.

As if sensing her panic, the armed shapes quickened their pace. Jordan's anxiety reached a fever pitch, and the air around her came alive. It still was nowhere near powerful as The Surge back home, but Jordan would make it work. She had an idea.

The light that ushered the fedora men into her world was the same color as the one that now seethed in her hands. Jordan's knowledge of electricity was nonexistent, but she knew that she stood on some sort of transportation machine. Maybe if she gave it enough of the juice that powered it, it would take her back home.

With a shriek, Jordan thrust her palms onto the warm metal. 

 Before her world was enveloped in violet, Jordan saw the men shout and raise their weapons.

Jordan closed her eyes and prayed for home.   

SaintCole once again,

Jordan and Derek finally back. I missed writing them. This one was a bit longer, so I could describe the intervening month. 

Don't rock the boat, please vote! :) 

Tell me some theories everyone! I'm burning with curiosity with what people are thinking up to this point. 

I love all of you guys. I know reading to this point was a long process, but I promise we have so much to come.