By 5:15 AM, the bus was full. Forty-two souls. Forty-two reasons to get to the platform. The air inside was a mix of industrial soap, instant coffee, and the quiet anxiety of men and women leaving their families for fourteen-day shifts.
“Radio check, Base. Transporte de personal, Ruta 7-A, Cunduacán to the Dos Bocas complex,” he said into the microphone. transporte de personal pemex
As they pulled out of the Pemex security checkpoint, the paved road ended. For the next hour, Unit 47 would crawl along the terracería —a treacherous ribbon of crushed limestone and mud that cut through the humid Tabasco jungle. By 5:15 AM, the bus was full
