Florida braced for the upcoming hurricane. By now most weather maps were showing it would hit land in less than 24 hours, and was headed straight for the eastern coast of the Sunshine State. Local municipalities were ordering evacuations; the remnants of what used to be F.E.M.A. was doing what it could to prepare for the storm.

The clean-up operations had begun immediately after the storm decimated the O.U.T.R.A.G.E. headquarters on the island of St. Kitts. Survivors who were uninjured simply picked up the pieces and started putting things back together again. Luckily, most of the technicians and mechanical experts were available, and capable of making invaluable contributions to the restorations. Island natives were hired to help with the clean-up, and within a matter of hours the facility was back up and running, although reconstruction work would continue for days - even weeks.

Split screens were viewed by tens of thousands of Americans at O.U.T.R.A.G.E. sites across the country, and were also being fed to all local television stations for continuous broadcast. Most stations chose to intersperse the O.U.T.R.A.G.E. telecasts with their own programming, but sufficient coverage was being beamed across the U.S.A. so that virtually all Americans with any interest in the events, as they unfolded, were able to stay informed. Interim President Colin Powell and Interim Vice-President John McCain appeared about once an hour to try and instill confidence, assuring citizens that everything was still 'on track', despite the devastation caused by an unwieldly, unprecedented, unpredictable, unseasonable storm.

By 11:00 p.m. Friday, the first downpours from the outer edges of the hurricane started pounding southern Florida. As the rains intensified during the night, police and fire officials in dozens of Florida coastal communities knew there would be no let up; the hurricane was headed toward them like a serpent pouncing on unsuspecting prey. No one could be sure where or when the hurricane would strike, and how much damage would be left in its wake. All they knew, with any certainty at all, was they could only prepare for the worst.

Seaside resort communities along the eastern coast of Florida resembled ghost towns and people left in droves. Just four years earlier, Hurricane Katrina had blown New Orleans to bits, and accusations of government unpreparedness and a lack of compassion for the low-incomed victims of the strom still lingered in many minds. Now it was all local municipalities could do to weather this weather alone; most mayors, town managers, and community rescue teams knew there would be little assistance forthcoming from a new government that was still reeling from a national catastrophe that had struck less than two months before.

The telecasts continued with O.U.T.R.A.G.E. members providing updates, urging calm, and trying to instill a modicum of confidence among the populace. By midnight, word was being received that the Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary, Key Largo, and a little town called Leisure City were being battered into oblivion. The storm was on the move, furiously swallowing whatever dared to remain in its path.