She was wreathed in darkness, total and absolute. It surrounded her and became one with her. There was no source of light around her; it was the totality of the definition of darkness, absence of light. She felt the shadows and silhouettes melt into the darkness, cringing in their little hidey-holes, waiting for her to come out and play.

The something that she was in rocked back and forth, bounding on pieces of rock on the road and the voices continued to drone on in her head, loud, echoing but muffled.

Drive faster, you idiot, or we’ll be late…

No, we won’t calm down, you worry too much, you’re too hyper, what are you afraid of? Her? Why? What’s wrong with you, man?

She closed her eyes, not even noticing the difference in the darkness, seeing spots of lights sparkling all around her face and her universe. The lights danced, all night, a wild and funky concerto, an opera and ballet all its own, and it danced, you bet, to the beat of the constant music singing in her head and oh yes, they danced. And she wanted to dance, too.

The something gained speed, bounding and rocking again and again, clocking close to 70 mph.

It was another 2 or 3 hours before the slick, black vehicle came to a complete halt and during this time Lindsey Falmon let herself fall asleep. Her mind quickly shut itself off and she remembered, as the years peel away like the skin of a banana. She didn’t remember about the brief time that she spent with Psi-force, when they fought against the Medusa Web. When they fought Rodstvow or when she was a free agent again. No, she remembered of the first time she fell in love with Wayne Tucker in the summer of 1988.

Interlude:

Scientist Jack Donaldson called the meeting to order. He had gathered four paranormals in his office in New York City. They were Rick Naslund, Lorna Jackson, Walter Murphy, and Dennis Gardner. Mr. Naslund was the only one who was previously a paranormal. The rest were normal human beings. They were gathered in the newly-reconstructed Clinic for Paranormal Research.

Mr. Donaldson cleared his throat and spoke loudly to the gathered masses, “I have asked you all here today because you have agreed to take part in a scientific experiment which I have dubbed the Process. It was first invented by Steve Magniconte, the dead brother of football star Mr. Magnificent, Captain Jack Magniconte. There were some flaws when Jack used it on the rest of the New York Smashers, now called the Kickers. They didn’t gain paranormal powers but I think I have perfected it. You are my guinea pigs. If you want to back out now, please say so. Because now is the golden moment. Once you go in, there is no turning back.”

Rick, being the leader of this small foursome, looks at his friends and once they all nod their heads in the affirmative, Jack Donaldson knows their answer.

And that answer is a resounding ‘yes’. Even though Rick already is a paranormal, he is anxious to gain even more powers and strength to rival Landers’ own.

“It’s now or never, doc,” Rick says, as they all walk forward into their four individual chambers. Once inside and the glass has been closed to make sure none of the radiation escapes into Donaldson’s safety net, Jack pulls the switch with a hard throw.

Electrical energy surrounds the four chambers and the people inside. The process only takes a few seconds to make contact and then, normal humans are bioengineered into paranormals.

Later, in one of the labs, Jack Donaldson asks how the four teenagers are doing. “How do you feel?” he probes the question.

“I feel stronger,” Rick Naslund says. “Now I won’t be in Dave Landers’ shadow anymore.

“I feel full of energy,” Lorna Jackson says, as she picks a cold cup of coffee, heats it up, and watches it explode. “Kinetic energy.”

Walter Murphy has the ability to fly. Almost a thermonuclear flight.

And Dennis Gardner changes the temperature of the room from 70 degrees to well below freezing and then, back again.

The only thing that Jack Donaldson could do at this moment is shout, “Eureka!” at the top of his lungs.

End of Interlude.

The heat pounds on him unrelentingly, dust swirls spinning him and whirling him around, the sun baking down on his long blonde hair and dark skin. The white cloth massages his neck, only buck up to the heavens above, kissing the sky. Soot blinds him violently. He has no choice but to rely solely on his instincts.

What is left of them.

The world becomes black, a spiraling whirlpool, a gaping hole of non-breathing and non-speaking. He is lost in a dream world, praying helplessly, hopelessly, that he will survive. Flashes of yellow and white phosphorescence bring him into a kaleidoscope, a rainbow of colors, a maze in which there is no escape.

The thrusting, pumping movements of the galloping horses slashes at his buttocks and he whimpers out loud. The rushed breathing, his heart jumping every few beats, his lungs feeling they are bursting.

He releases the reins and the horse bucks back.

The air and wind are sweet. the yellow and white vanish and the black remains, ever-vigilant ever-constant. The clouds darken and coalesce, forming a deep blackness in the heavens. Spasms of thunder and lightning flash across the sky.

"You all right in there, Johnny?"

His eyes flash open, staring widely at the blue-clad officer gripping the cold iron bars. He does not know how long or how many times this officer asked him that same exact question. Even when Johnny wasn't in the throes of a dream. But he guessed answering him was the only thing to do. He didn't want to get in any more trouble than he already was in.

"I'm fine," he responded, half-heartedly, walking over to the sink. He turned a rusted knob, hearing the onrush of running water. "Just daydreamin' is all." He cupped his hands to catch the water and splashed it on his face. The water was cool, fresh. Maybe this will snap him out of his dream. Now was not the time to appear to be anything but fully aware of what was presently going on.

"Dinner's in an hour. You're havin' soup an' chicken." The officer eyed Johnny, who subsequently brushed a dried-fizzy wash cloth over his face, wiping the dripping water away. "It can't be any worse'n cafeteria food back in high school. Now, that was bad. I can remember a time when--"

"Y'think I care?"

"You should." The officer didn't seem to notice how abruptly Johnny snapped back at him.

Johnny stared blindly into the officer's eyes and heart, never having caught his name. Not really wanting to. He placed the towel into the sink. He held him in that gaze for a short while.

"Look, I'll go now. So you can just go back to doing whatever it was you were doin', okay?"

Johnny frowns.

"Man, you are one stupid son of a bitch!" he retorted angrily.

The definite sounds of the officer's black shoes clicking and clanking on the floor deepen and disappear in the distance. Johnny relaxes back on his cot. He wondered how long it would take for him to be released on bail.

Over the Soviet Union, the NSC team exit the helicopter to invade the Siberian Project where Johnny Doe (Dehman Doosha) is being held prisoner by Rodstvow. Judge Justice erects his shields and his sword to blast open a wide berth to enter the Project. Justice is needed to be the point-man to protect the others as they do battle with Project members.

They see Dehman Doosha’s cell. Once they snap him out of his stupor, he changes into a fire being and breaks out of there. The bars melt like so much congealed metal. He is reunited with his father figure Thomas Boyd, the Psi-Stalker. Their love for one another is rekindled.

Shivowtnoeh charges at them but Dehman Doosha makes his fur go on fire. He shrieks and yells like a scared child or animal which he is. Coojeeiscue creates cubes of her namesake to push the team members back but Judge Justice creates his own shields to push her against a wall. Her glasses fall to the ground, making her vision blurry.

With the majority of the Siberian Project, save one, defeated, the team members try to make their escape but in the snow of Russia, they have yet to tangle with the new Rodstvow. Since the original Rodstvow was destroyed years ago, this new one they bio-engineered in a lab somewhere.

Glowing with energy, Rodstvow lays out his plan for the NSC Team. “You may have won this round, Americans. But I will be back. I have deep plans for you. Plans that will cause about your inevitable destruction one of these days.”

As Rodstvow and the Siberian Project disappeared on the horizon, Judge Justice knew that he and his team will be in for the fight of his lives...

THE END