It was a clear summer day. An airplane flew overhead, oblivious to terrestrial troubles. Tall green fields of corn spanned for miles in between the gridlines of highways and dirt roads. A mosquito, finishing the last few tastes of a groundhog vein, spread its miniscule wings and took off. It zipped upwards until it was flying above the corn field. The magnificent blue sky had no visual appeal to the insect. The air was warm and the field was peaceful. The mosquito continued flying towards the edge of the field where a deep ditch lay. When it reached the ditch, it flew downwards and landed on a blade of grass. It remained there for a few minutes before instinctively moving along again. Out of the grass, out of the damp ditch and above some gravel; it had reached the roadside. There were people moving on the pavement: potential targets for its vampiric hunger.
It zoomed out towards the towering figures, found the most accessible patch of flesh, landed and pierced the surface with its sharp needle-like mouth. It began to draw blood.
Officer Whalen flicked the insignificant mosquito corpse off of his arm. His attention couldn't be distracted by a tiny insect, not with the scene that lay before his eyes. Police cruisers and ambulances crowded the highway. The meaning of this gathering was evident from far away; the tail end of a large yellow school bus was tilted into the air, its front mashed into the ditch. It was on its side. A black Hummer was overturned and wrecked in the parallel ditch across the road. Broken glass, pieces of sharp misshapen metal and dark red puddles of blood could be found all over the ground. An ambulance sped away from the scene carrying another survivor. Police and...