Point and Shoot, Florida (YU)--Heap and Brenda rode out the storm in their motel room. The louder the wind howled outside, the more rambunctious the gangsters got. I think they were frightened. They seemed a superstitious lot, and quintessentially urban. With neon suntans. The only sunshine they got was in the exercise yard, in prison.

Not used to the elements. Nature. Animals. Weather.

Heap had ridden out typhoons on Okinawa, and hurricanes, in South Florida, growing up. He'd been in rough seas in small boats.

The TV said the pumps at the locks might not be able to take care of the extra water, from the rains, and/or if the dikes were breached, the city would flood.

Nobody said what to do if that happened.

Heap sat up drinking and watching men in raincoats with microphones, telling viewers they were all going to die, if the worst-case scenario came to pass.

Nash Roberts, the weatherman Heap and Brenda would watch, while they lived in New Orleans, was back at the studio, studying the behavior of the computer models. The raw data feed. He was his own computer model, and often outguessed the computers.

The gangsters roamed the halls, from room to room. All the rooms were open, and people were drunk. They went in and out of each other's rooms.

Heap's door was closed.

Fraternity boys were probably more dangerous than the gangsters.

Except that the gangsters were armed.

When Heap went to bed the hurricane was going to hit New Orleans.

Maybe not directly, but it was a huge storm, and enough would hit to cause some damage.