Ethan Hill had always cared for his mother, and when she died a little more than five years ago, he had to face the realities of real life. His father was initially devastated, but then he met a younger woman and moved away, leaving Ethan to try to live on his own.
Ethan had gotten into university just before his father moved away with his academic performance, but because he had relied on his mother to do everything for him, managing his life was not easy.
No more ready food on the table, no more adoring mother praising her son and telling him how wonderful he was. Now he had to maintain his dorm room, study, find food, and pay bills. Not easy for someone who had never worked a single hour in his life. He was mourning his mother, and because his father did not support him, he felt adrift.
Then shit usually happens. Studying was difficult because he was no Einstein, and what had been an excellent performance in his youth was now barely average because there were much more dedicated guys in their athletic performances, and they had ambition, drive, and the need to show off.
Whereas Ethan, being a fairly simple guy, lacked these qualities, which did not imply that he was a top athlete. He had done well in football at his small school in the east, but now that they had moved and he had accepted this university, competition was fierce, and his modest stipend would not cover his entire education.
His father had given him a grant of a few thousand as a backup, but as he began university life and all of the parties, that few thousand was quickly spent on booze and drugs. Drugs made him forget his dissatisfaction with himself, and he saw himself much better after a few nice joints and possibly a few downers to mellow everything out.
But drugs are expensive, and his bills had to be paid, some of which were paid directly from his account, which was nearly empty most of the time, and he ate cheap meals at university, always opting for something under $5.
But reality kept pushing him, and he had to admit that he needed to find work; he had a driver's license, and he was a pretty suave guy who didn't mind lying through his teeth and charming everyone around him.
He was 5'11" with a lean build, so he wasn't overly buffed, and his speed was useful on the field, but he wasn't particularly unique or the best there was. He had sandy hair; a pretty long face; prominent teeth but a kind smile; and his lazy, husky voice drew girls to him at parties.
As his financial situation worsened, he began to party more, and drugs and alcohol became more prevalent. Partying was much more enjoyable than trying to study and get decent grades while hoping his stipend would continue, so he had to find work.
He was greedy but lazy, but he also liked to take shortcuts whenever possible, because his mother had never made him bear any responsibility because he was an only child, much wanted after a series of miscarriages, and even though his parents were not madly in love, his home had been somewhat stable.
At least his mother loved and adored him, but now his father is living with his new family, a new wife who has previous children younger than him, and a large house, and he has just told Ethan to grow up.
He was initially surprised at how little some jobs paid, and he was not going to make it with a minimum wage because drugs were not cheap. So when he spotted a suitable job, truck driving gigs with substantial pay, he went to get the minimum education or requirements to upgrade his license so he could drive a truck, and then he applied for the job, lying on his application about his experience and skills, but money was needed, and by chance, he got the job.
However, having a job was not an easy task; he had to get up early and drive eight to ten hours per day, and other drivers were not impressed with him. But he wanted the money, so he took the most undesirable jobs, which paid more but required driving at night or long distances.
Ethan had not fully grasped all of the legal aspects of driving a truck, including mandatory rest and sleep and driver fitness. He simply persisted, even if it was difficult or uncomfortable.
He was inexperienced enough to feel when the truck lurched or moved incorrectly, but for the time being, nothing had happened, and he simply lacked experience. And this trucking company was looking to save money, so hiring Ethan meant they could pay him 25% less than a skilled, experienced driver with a few years behind them.
There were few regulations, and while drivers logged their hours, there was no oversight to ensure that everyone took their mandatory rest and slept properly.
However, life was now going well for Ethan. He had just received his first paycheck yesterday and had received something to help him, which meant drugs, as he was still driving. His paycheck had been nice and large, so it gave him motivation to keep driving because surely this sum would carry him, and he might get some food and booze. Oh, those parties! There might be some nice girls for him as well.
He felt a buzz from the sedatives, a few benzos he had gotten, which mellowed everything out, and he had five joints reserved as well, all of high quality, as the seller had assured him. Now it was a dark night or evening, and the snowstorm didn't bother him at all.
He had powerful lights in his truck, and he still had a long way to go because he had left Canada 18 hours earlier and was now in Minnesota, with a destination in Missouri.
He took a few drags from his first joint, feeling hazy and dreamlike due to the buzz spreading in his mind. His joint had some interesting impurities and add-ons, like a bit of magic mushroom, as the dealer was peddling many types of drugs and cross-contamination occurred.
Ethan quickly took a few more good drags, his mental state deteriorating and his dreamlike state deepening, and it soon felt surreal, as if this was one of those games his mother had gotten him, complete with bells and whistles.
Because he was inexperienced, he didn't notice when his trailer lurched, only slightly at first, fishtailing lightly, but once it whipped back, momentum grew and it lurched even further. Ethan, eager to finish his job, pressed the gas and changed lanes to pass the family SUV that was driving in front of him.
As he accelerated, his trailer lurched even more, and he was just passing the SUV when the edge of his trailer, which was now swinging quite quickly, collided with the SUV, throwing it across the road. The SUV spun violently a few times before landing on the edge of a ravine, its backend lurching downwards, one side smashed in as a trailer had hit it hard.
The SUV dropped into a ravine, or what had been a road a long time ago, but the big car dropped on big boulders, and the backend first wobbled for a few moments before crashing onto its side. And because this was a section of road without lights, there was little evidence due to heavy snow falling.
Ethan had not noticed this, and his trailer continued to lurch, hitting the next car, and as that car exploded, a fiery fireball erupted on the road, crushing more cars, and only when the trailer lurched and nearly jackknifed completely, forcing Ethan's truck to stop, did his rampage over a two-mile distance come to an end.
There was chaos everywhere; cars were hit and totaled, several exploded, and a pile-up formed due to the heavy traffic. But, for Ethan, this was just a computer game.
He sat in his truck, looking around, his hands still in the steering wheel, and he grinned stonily. "Oh, I must have gotten some kind of record for this; what will the next level be?" he muttered, as he was too out of it, and this was not real to him.
Emergency vehicles began to arrive and save as many people as possible, but it took some time for them to notice the truck, which was nearly blocking the entire road, and the man sitting inside. One of the police officers knocked on the window, waking Ethan up who had been dozing off. He opened the window, stoned as shit, still holding his joint, and a heavy odor of marijuana wafted out of the truck as the window was opened.
"Could you please exit the vehicle and show me your driver's license, registration, and driving manifest?" the police officer asked, keeping his voice calm, despite the fact that this was the largest catastrophe he had ever seen.
As Ethan scrambled to find his registration, he opened the glove compartment, and a bottle of benzos and his joints dropped out. When he finally found his registration, he dug out his wallet and opened the door, handed his documents to the police, and looked around.
Several firetrucks were attempting to keep blazing cars from exploding further; ambulances flocked, and everywhere was chaotic. Cars were scattered all around, and paramedics were attempting to locate the worst of the victims. There was someone crying, an anguished cry, which Ethan recognized as a cry one makes when someone has lost someone dear; he had heard this from himself after his mother died.
The road was littered with crushed cars as far as he could see, and he heard someone talking for at least two miles. Police jumped in the truck, took his driving record, and recorded his speed and rest stops.
Ethan swallowed, and reality began to set in as the last wisps of marijuana vanished from his mind. "Did I do this? Oh my God. "I... I didn't mean... I killed so many," he muttered, finally realizing what had happened.
Well, he had been speeding, and given the weather, it hadn't taken long for him to cover a two-mile distance with his truck, plowing through other cars like wheat, causing them to crush, hit, and explode, killing so many people. Soon, medical helicopters hovered in the air, and police read Ethan his rights, Mirandized him, and escorted him into a waiting police car that drove to the nearest larger station, where he would face serious charges.
Paramedics were attempting to save as many people as possible, but they had no idea how many had been injured or killed; all they could do was take one car at a time, and no one saw the large SUV at the bottom of the ravine; snow had fallen, and because it was the first car to collide, there was little evidence of its drop.
Over two miles, this road was now blocked in all four lanes because so many vehicles had slid into incoming traffic, causing additional pileups on those lanes and injuries. In just under 30 minutes of search and rescue, the death toll was over 30 people killed and at least 100 injured; the worst of the injured were airlifted to Minneapolis or the nearest major emergency department, depending on the severity of their injuries.
Police and additional personnel were called in, and the road was pretty much blocked for the time being, but they had found a way around the blockage; there was a smaller, older road nearby that was in poor condition, but they were able to clear it with a snowplow.
The weather was brutal, and with so many victims, this kind of freezing chill with heavy snow was not ideal, and paramedics were quickly dispersing emergency blankets to keep victims' bodies warm until they could be seen to.
A large truck with a cooler also arrived, and body bags were quickly loaded in; however, not all of the victims had been identified, and it would take time to identify everyone, particularly those who had been in the exploding vehicles.
The fire had nearly destroyed the entire car, leaving little to identify. Clearing this mess and saving as many people as possible seemed impossible at the time, and everyone was aware of the high death toll; it would be difficult for the community to recover.