By the time emergency vehicles arrived, the property looked like a disaster zone. Floodlights lit the rim, radios buzzed, officers pushed back onlookers. Heavy machinery rolled in, engines groaning. Daniel tried to focus on his family, but his eyes kept sliding back to the sinkhole’s rim. Something about the collapse didn’t sit right.
The feed from earlier was nearly useless. Soil and splintered roots smeared across the lens, blocking any clear view of the bottom. “Too much debris,” one of the engineers muttered, shutting the monitor off with a sigh. “We’ll have to clear it first.” Crews began hauling out broken boards and clumps of earth, sweat gleaming under the harsh lights.