Engineers Swore Nothing Could Move The Sunken Rig Until An Old Man Started His Nineteen Forty Nine Wrecker

The locals laughed, louder this time. But the creek was getting closer.

The bank beneath the rig had started slumping, peeling away in muddy slices. Water licked at the rear tire. Hank saw it.

So did Matthew. “We need to change the angle,” Matthew said. Hank nodded once.

“You’re learning.”

They reset the blocks. It took twenty minutes they did not have. Rain started again, light but steady.

The mud turned glossy. The creek darkened. Bryce came over, anger sharpened by fear.

“This is taking too long.”

Hank did not look up from the chain he was inspecting. “Then go buy yourself some time.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Making us all look stupid?”

Hank slowly straightened.