by Beth Martin
His chest tightened as he realized it was probably the second. Somehow, he had to find a way to keep her on the project without leading her on or breaking her heart.
CHAPTER FIVE
Throughout the fall months, Grace faithfully emailed Peter every few days. Sometimes she’d ask about the progress on the construction of the generator, sometimes she’d share ideas for his ongoing research, and sometimes she just wanted to check in.
From the tone of her correspondence, her memory of their evening in LA had been forgotten. Even so, he was conscious of the content of his email responses. Just because she pretended the events of that evening hadn’t happened didn’t mean those feeling were gone. He heard no other news from Michael Hudson or SPS in general. As far as he knew, Grace would return to Last Chance after the new year like she originally promised.
The construction started as planned and moved along quickly. In the meantime, a new intern took Grace’s place, a student by the name of Ian whose interest in geology ended at categorizing rocks. He lasted an entire week before quitting, but by that time there were enough contractors going up and down the well that Peter never had to worry about visiting the cavern by himself.
By January, they had only met minor delays. On the first day of winter quarter, Peter sat at his desk trying to keep busy while frequently glancing out the window, looking for the arrival of Grace’s silver car. He was nervous. Although her chipper emails had kept his spirits up—even when he was overwhelmed with delegating construction—he was still unsure how to act around her. He needed to remain professional, but shouldn’t be too cold, while also avoiding coming across as overly friendly. In the summer, she had the power to shut down his work. Now, not only could she put a stop to his research, she also held the keys to future funding. As the shadows grew longer and the sun dipped lower, the last few construction workers left, going to the only hotel in town for the night. She wasn’t coming.
He put in another hour of work, distracting himself, before deciding to get some sleep. Just as he was about to turn his computer off, it gave a shrill little beep to let him know he had gotten a new email.
It was Grace. Her father was in town for only a few days, and she wanted to spend some time with him. She would arrive in Last Chance on Wednesday. Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He turned off his computer and went to bed.
···
The coffee was still warming on the hot plate of the coffee maker and everything was ready to go. The construction crews were all cleared out, leaving behind only tire tracks crisscrossing the ground as evidence they had ever been there at all.
Peter refrained from venturing down the well on his own even though he desperately wanted to see the generator again. It was a thing of beauty, and he hoped Grace would be able to appreciate it at least a little. She had been unimpressed by the plans, but had expressed mild interest in her emails.
He could hear the gravel crunch under the tires of her silver sedan as she drove up. Quickly locking his computer, he got up from his desk and rushed to the door to greet her. The cool air outside greeted him, warm for January, but still colder than inside the lab. As soon as the vehicle came to a complete stop, Grace hopped out of the driver seat. She wore her hair in loose waves, and had on a cozy sweater and jeans so tight they could have been painted on.
“Dr. Cork,” she said, nodding in his direction. She opened the back door of her car and grabbed onto a piece of luggage, yanked on it until it tumbled onto the ground, then grasped the next one.
Peter approached the car to offer help. “There are three more in the trunk,” she said as she dragged the first two toward the lab. “It’s unlocked,” she called back.
He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his temper. Instead of warding off inappropriately affectionate advances, he was dealing again with her extreme apathy. He hadn’t mentally prepared for this scenario. Opening the trunk, he gathered the remaining pieces of luggage and brought them inside.
Grace already had loud music blaring out of a pair of Bluetooth speakers. He set the suitcases in the middle of her room with the other two. She was lounging on the bed, staring at her phone.
“I wanted to go down the well,” he said loudly.
“Now?” She didn’t even look up from her screen.
“I thought you’d be anxious to see the new generator.”
She shrugged.
He clenched his fists, struggling to keep composed. How had she gone from so hot to so cold? He would never understand this woman. “We need to check on it sometime today. Let me know when would work for you.”
She let out an exasperated sigh, then turned off her phone and tossed it on the bed. “We can go now.” She got up and powered down the speakers sitting on her desk.
They walked back outside. “Wait here,” Peter instructed. Grace crossed her arms, but stayed in place.
He walked around the side of the temporary structure to where his bicycle was stored. Even though he didn’t have a driver’s license, he could still legally operate a small motor vehicle, so he had purchased an electric golf cart with some of the grant money from SPS. He climbed in and flipped the switch to on. As soon as he pressed his foot on the accelerator, the little motor hummed and the cart lurched forward. He zipped around the lab, driving up to where Grace waited.
She turned and actually smiled as she placed a hand on her hip. “Oh my God, that’s perfect.” She hopped in and they headed off to the well.
Peter reminded himself of how fortunate he was as the cool winter air blew past his face. At almost thirty, he was leading a successful research project that was bound to change the way people lived. Once his postdoctoral fellowship at SLAU ended, he would have a chance to land a prestigious position with tenure. Securing funding would be easier in the future. In fact, he’d probably get such a cushy academic job with no teaching duties. He would just do a little research each day and travel all over the world as the keynote speaker at bunches of conferences.
As his imagined successes rushed at him along with the chilled January air, the ride on the golf cart began to get bumpy.
“Stop!” Grace shrieked. The urgency in her voice made him think he might have run over an animal, which would also account for the rough ride. But once the golf cart stopped and the engine went silent, the jostling continued. “We need to get away from the cart, now!” She jumped up from her seat and dashed away from the vehicle.
Peter tried to follow, tripping as he got out. The ground shook and was gaining momentum. He pulled himself up to his feet and tried to run after her, but the shaking was so violent he couldn’t get his footing. Leaping forward, he tried to at least get clear of the golf cart, which was rocking back and forth.
The earth groaned beneath him as he tried to keep moving using an army crawl. He could see Grace ahead, curled up into ball, her body buffeted by the angrily shaking terrain, her hair flowing around her like she was underwater. Dirt from the ground saturated the air around him, making him cough. A few specks flew into his eyes, and he covered his face with a hand while his eyes burned and his lungs heaved in another cough, trying to expel the dirty air.
Suddenly, something smashed into his legs, causing pain to radiate up to his hips and down to his feet. After the initial blow, he got hit over and over. Though the ground started to steady, he couldn’t get away from the assault. He looked back, blinking his now watering eyes to try and see through the cloud of dust.
“Oh my God, Dr. Cork, are you okay?” Grace yelled as she ran back to him. Her hair and clothes were caked in dirt, but other than that she looked to be all right.
The golf cart had fallen, and the roof was now pinning his shins into the cold ground. He struggled to get his legs free.
“Don’t move!” Grace instructed. With more strength than Peter had thought possible from someone with such a small frame, she lifted the golf cart by its roof, giving him barely enough room to pull his legs out from under before letting it smash back into the ground. “Are
you hurt?”
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted as he pulled himself up. He was able to stand, so nothing was broken, but the force of the cart falling on him would definitely leave a nasty bruise. “Help me get the cart upright?”
“Yeah,” she said. They worked together, pushing up the roof of the cart until it settled onto its wheels. Using extra care, he took a seat in the cart—on the passenger side this time.
Grace got in the driver seat, but didn’t start the cart. She gripped the steering wheel tightly. “That was an earthquake.”
“Yes,” Peter said simply.
“But, I thought all the fracking had stopped.”
“So did I.”
“Then what caused it?”
“I don’t know.” She looked at him a moment longer before turning to look forward and pressing on the accelerator. Nothing happened. She pressed her foot down again. “It’s not going,” she observed.
He hoped it wasn’t broken beyond repair; he really didn’t want to walk all the way back to the lab. “Is it on?”
She flipped the power switch. “Oops.”
He stared forward as she drove the golf cart the rest of the way to the well. The canopy which shaded the area was still there, but instead of there being just a hole in the ground, a rail wrapped around the well and a new metal platform. Grace slowed the golf cart down, stopping in front of the hole.
Her eyes widened and she jumped up from her seat. “Is that an elevator?”
He couldn’t help but smile as he hobbled over to the railing. “You could call it that. It’s a simple pulley-dummy system.” Cautiously stepping onto the diamond plate floor of the simple lift, she looked over the new structure. “You’ll want this,” Peter said before tossing a helmet to her. He put on his own and joined her on the platform. Gripping the lever which controlled the motor, he asked, “You ready?”
She nodded, and he pushed the lever forward. Nothing happened. “What’s wrong?”
He looked closely at the controls. “Looks like it doesn’t have power. This light is supposed to be illuminated.”
“No power,” she gasped, her eyes wide. “But, it’s supposed to power itself. Did the experiment fail already?”
He kicked the lever, which sent a wave of pain through his already battered leg. “Dammit!” Tightly gripping the rails around the platform, he tried to figure out what had gone wrong. “The battery cell should be fully charged. Even if the generator doesn’t work, we should still have at least some power.” He hung his head and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. “The battery must have gotten disconnected somehow.”
“You think it was the earthquake?” Grace asked.
“Yes, but we’ll have to go down there to find out for sure.”
For safety, a ladder had been installed in the well as a fire escape. During construction, Peter had insisted the auto-belay system stayed in place, and was glad now for an easy way to make a quick descent without the elevator.
The harnesses were waiting for them in a small box on the platform filled with emergency supplies. They strapped on the gear, linking themselves to the line leading down.
“Let’s go,” Grace said, sounding more nervous now than excited. Their descent was fast, the safety lights which Peter had gotten used to watching sail by during the construction now dark without power as well. He desperately hoped the earthquake hadn’t done irreparable damage.
When they reached the bottom, their feet splashed into a puddle of water. They unhooked their harnesses and cautiously made their way into the cavern heading toward the location of the new generator. The smooth concrete floor was now immersed in dark water, slick and difficult to navigate. Grace and Peter looked at each other, barely able to see a thing in the darkness.
“I didn’t think to bring a flashlight,” Peter admitted. Grace slipped her phone out of her back pocket and tapped it a few times until a small light on the back illuminated the cavern ahead of them.
The glossy white exterior of the generator reflected the light from her phone. Nothing looked amiss beyond the mysterious pool of water at their feet and the eerie silence.
All the equipment that had been down there had been moved to an area to the far left. Directly in front of them sat the new generator. It was enormous, and Grace gasped as they slowly walked up to it. A plastic shell protected the machinery underneath. Peter had no idea how a car worked or what the pieces inside a computer did, but he was intimately familiar with this generator.
“I need to see what’s going on inside.” He pointed at an access door.
Grace followed him with her light, and he opened the panel and peered inside. “Huh,” he said, rubbing a hand through his beard. “Nothing got tripped in the breaker.”
“You think it’s the battery?” she asked.
“Perhaps.” He walked around the generator to the battery compartment. The door was stuck. Gripping the handle firmly, he gave it a sharp pull. The plastic door cracked and fell off before a shower of sparks burst from the compartment. The bright light temporarily blinded him, and he took a step away.
Grace let out a yell of surprise, losing her balance as she tried to move back. Her phone tumbled out of her hand and she fumbled trying to catch it before it fell into the water with a small splash. They watched as the light on her phone slowly dimmed before completely disappearing.
In the total darkness, the sound of water bubbling up from the generator filled their senses. Peter could hear Grace’s hand splash around as she attempted to find her phone.
She grasped the lost electronic and pulled it from the depths. “Fuck,” she cursed under her breath. Fiddling with her phone, she tried to get it to turn back on, but it was pointless.
“We should get back to the surface,” he said as he stood back up. It was warmer in the cavern than outside, but he still felt cold from his now soaked pants and shirt.
“Are you okay?” she asked, pulling herself up and reaching a hand out for his. Her cool fingers grasped around his own, and they started walking to the well. She slipped on the smooth flooring, almost taking Peter down with her.
She was soaked and shivering as he connected their harnesses back to the rope. He had performed this task so many times that he was still able to do so in the dark. She pressed against him, wrapping her arms around him, and with a tug on the line they started to ascend. Only once they were back on the surface did Peter realize that her shivering had been replaced with sobs.
CHAPTER SIX
Peter stroked a hand through Grace’s soft hair, which was now wet at the ends, in an attempt to help calm her down. “Everything will be all right,” he whispered, knowing that he was making promises he wouldn’t necessarily be able to keep. He wished he could be as open with his emotions. Now that they were safely on the surface, he realized how lucky they were to be generally unharmed. The battery could have electrified the standing water, turning the cavern into a death trap. They shouldn’t even go back down to collect readings from the equipment. “It’s cold out here,” he observed. “Let’s head back to the lab.”
Grace pushed away for a moment to look at him, the disappointment easy to read in her eyes, and nodded in agreement. They took their places in the golf cart, Grace in the passenger seat this time, and Peter switched it on ready to drive away.
While he was thinking about what this setback meant for his research, he didn’t realize that the golf cart wasn’t moving. The engine was making noises, but it wasn’t the normal humming sound—it was an awful cacophony of grinding gears.
Grace wiped the tears from her face and said, “Let me check,” before getting up and opening the front compartment. The inside was now full of dust and dirt. “Press the pedal,” she instructed. When he did, the engine made the same sickly sound again. “I don’t think we’ll be able to fix it,” she declared, avoiding looking him in the eye.
“Let’s walk back, then,” he said, getting out of the cart. They ambled quietly in the cold back to the lab, Grace shiv
ering and holding her arms close across her chest.
The lab was a simple prefabricated building set on a few concrete footings, and from a distance he knew it didn’t look right—the roof line was at a slant. The whole structure had shifted, and only half of it still rested on the concrete post. As they got closer, the cracks in the siding and broken windows showed that not only was it slanted, but the entire building structure was compromised.
“Oh no,” he said. “Wait out here, I’m going to check inside.”
“No.” He stopped and gave her a puzzled look. “It’s obviously not safe. Why take the risk?”
“My computer…” he trailed off, realizing she was right. The slumping structure didn’t look remotely safe, and the lack of any light coming through the broken windows meant the lab also lost power. He bowed his head. There was no way he’d convince anyone, let alone SPS, to fund fixing the generator and constructing a new lab. This was the death of his project in Last Chance. “You’re right. I would like to call Dr. Hall. Let’s go into town.”
She nodded and they both got into her car. She turned up the heat and they drove without talking, listening to some annoying pop tune on the radio while heading toward town.
Peter’s thoughts were consumed with figuring out what his next steps should be. If he could convince Grace that his research was still worthwhile, a task which shouldn’t be too hard, she could possibly get her father on board to fund the construction of a new generator. They would want to choose a different spot. Last Chance had been convenient since the well had already been drilled, but the fracking activity had obviously been a drawback. They could choose a place sufficiently far from any oil activity to start over. Since the cost of laser drilling wasn’t prohibitive, he could probably get enough grant money for a new well anywhere and not be limited to existing ones. In fact, he guessed the cost of drilling a well seemed minuscule compared to that of constructing a new geothermal generator and lab building. He knew that when he received the Nobel Peace Prize in the future for his work on geothermal habitation, this earthquake would feel like just a minor setback.