Prologue

USWR Headquarters: Santa Cruz, California

It had been quite a long night for Greg Matthews. With the increase in storm activity, the United States Weather Research, USWR for short, had asked him and several other individuals to pull overtime. Needing the extra pay, Greg had immediately agreed. Now he regretted his decision.

For hours, the small, black monitor at his workstation had been relaying precipitation measurements, storm patterns, wind velocities, and other technical jargon which he, in turn, was supposed to read and monitor for any discrepancies, errors, or anomalies. It hade been tiring work, and Greg was reaching the limit of his attention span. The only thing keeping him awake was a lukewarm cup of joe on his desk. Every hour or so, he had one of the trainees fill it up for him, occasionally brewing a new pot to satisfy the half-dozen or so workers who needed it just as much as he did. Unfortunately, grocery store coffee could only drive a man so far… and Greg was reaching the end of the caffeine's capacity to keep him awake.

He yawned loudly for the umpteenth time, which was soon followed by half a dozen more verbal signs of tiring. He groaned and looked at his digital watch. 2:30 in the morning! He had been sitting in his lumpy swivel-chair watching this blasted screen for close to ten hours now! Gosh… I hope Marlene understands. His thoughts drifted to his wife. She and the kids were obviously asleep, snug in their warm, comfortable beds, catching their forty winks. He sighed. They had planned on going for a camping trip this weekend. It was going to be their first family vacation in three years. Then Greg had got the call. They were struggling financially, and he might have lost his job had he refused. They had spent months saving for that trip. Once the work dies down, I'll be able to take a week or two off… then I'll make it up to them.

He was interrupted from his contemplation by a loud beeping noise. At first he thought it was somebody's beeper, but then remembered that the infernal machines weren't allowed in here.

"Who's is that?" Greg asked quizzically. He rubbed his eyelids groggily.

"Uhh sir? It's… um… I think you should take a look at this." Greg swiveled around in his chair to get a look at the speaker. He managed to lift his heavy eyelids enough to see one of his colleagues, Eric Langster standing in front of his desk, his eyes glued to his monitor and his face ashen.

"What is it, Eric?" He groaned as he rose from his chair. "Is something wrong?" He stumbled over to his colleague's desk, placing his hands on top of it for support. After practically ten straight hours of sitting, with the odd bathroom break, his muscles just weren't quite up to the task of supporting his large girth yet. With a grunt of exertion, Greg steered himself around the desk to stand beside Eric, his hands still braced on it for support. Eric turned to him, his usually red face deathly pale. Greg gave him a quizzical stare, wondering what the heck was going on. Eric raised his hand, and without a word, turned the monitor towards Greg.

After studying the screen for several moments, he gasped loudly. "There must be some mistake!"

"No mistake sir. I checked and rechecked the data. It all adds up." Eric pointed at the information streaming across the computer screen. "We have the most sophisticated weather analysis equipment on the face of the planet. There's no mistake sir, though I wish to God there was." He pressed a few buttons on his keyboard and grimaced. The sounds of half a dozen gasps could be heard all over the room as the exact same data appeared on everyone's screen. Everyone's face instantly became as pale and ashen as Eric's. He turned to Greg, who was still gazing wordlessly at the computer screen. "Uh… sir? What should we do?"

Greg shook his head vigorously. Instantly composing himself, he walked to the center of the dimly-lit room and cleared his throat, freeing everyone from their stupor. "I know we're all freaked out about this… but we need to keep a cool head. I need everyone to get back to analyzing their respective data. We still have a job to do, remember. If it spreads, I want you there to watch its progress. I'll notify the head of State. Are we clear?" Everyone nodded nervously, their attention switching from their screens to Greg and back again.

Greg nodded wordlessly as he returned to Eric's computer. "Keep your eyes on it, alright? I need you to watch its progress directly and notify me if it gets any closer." Eric gulped nervously and nodded. Greg's eyes once more wandered to the computer screen. Displayed on the screen was a map of the Pacific Ocean. Taking up 75 of its area was a large, black swirl. Over the entire map, in large, red letters, could be seen the words:

WARNING!

MAJOR STORM APPROACHING!

Greg sighed. "May God help us all."