by Beth Martin
“You can’t give up,” she insisted.
“Why do you care so much about what I do?”
“You’ve inspired me,” she said. He hadn’t been aware he was fidgeting until she placed a hand on his, making him stop. He looked up at her face, giving her his full attention. “I was raised a spoiled heiress. My dad has always doted on me. Everything I’ve ever wanted has been just handed to me. Everything up until when my dad decided that I should get an internship to ‘build character.’ Geology was the only class I got a respectable grade in, so my geology professor agreed to write a recommendation letter for me to get this one. When I didn’t initially get it, my dad pulled some strings so that I would.”
The crowd around their gate had thinned. Everyone else on their flight had already boarded the airplane, and the airline representative gave out the last call for boarding on Flight 632.
Grace held onto Peter’s hand and her brown eyes searched his face. Her unwavering gaze made him a little uncomfortable, but he couldn’t look away. “You’re the most passionate and driven person I’ve ever met. Just being around you makes me feel like I matter, like I can make a difference in the world. I stumbled through the academic articles you gave me, trying to piece together the details of everything you do. And when I finally got it, I mean, you’re amazing. You’re everything I want to be. Even if I’m just playing a supporting role, lifting you up, I’m making a difference too.”
He didn’t know what to say. Usually he had to work really hard to convey to people why his work was important. Of course, it had been a challenge to teach Grace about geothermal habitation and how Last Chance was a first step. In his periphery, he saw the door for their gate closing, but that wasn’t important at the moment.
“I think we should stay,” she pressed. “So the generator didn’t work out and your lab has been reduced to rubble. We’ve got an opportunity here. We should take it.”
“It’s not that simple.” Her eyes hadn’t left his face. She probably didn’t realize that they were about to miss their flight, though maybe that was what she wanted. “I can’t afford not to get a paycheck. I have a couple months’ worth of emergency savings to get me through the summer, and that’s it.”
“We’ll slum it. We’ll stay in campgrounds and eat rice and beans.” Her face was so eager, he couldn’t help but smile.
“Have you ever been camping?” he asked.
“No, but I’ll give it a shot if it means you’ll stay.”
From the windows, he could see the airplane at their gate start to move away and join the line at the runway. They had officially missed their flight. “We’ll need a tent.”
···
For once, luck seemed to be on Peter’s side. The geology coordinator at SLAU answered when Peter called to inform them he wouldn’t be available to lead any courses. Not having a smartphone and his PC and laptop still in his destroyed lab, he hadn’t been able to check his email since the major earthquake. The coordinator informed him that the courses Peter was going to take over had been canceled since so few students had signed up, but the department did need someone to lead the online section for another class. This only required a weekly video conference for just an hour with the students in his section, being available for homework help via email, and some grading.
Even though he would need to purchase a new laptop and a cellular modem, his livelihood was set for at least the next couple months while he investigated the Colorado earthquake.
Having never gone camping before, Grace was excited by the prospect. The small town of Last Chance had been decimated, the leveled buildings prompting the residents to move elsewhere. Even if the Inn had still stood, there was no one left who could check them in.
Peter went through the outdoor store, selecting gear that they would need, while Grace meandered about, unfamiliar with all the items that were for sale.
“They have a Hello Kitty fishing pole,” she gushed, sprinting over to Peter with a bright-pink child-sized pole in her hand.
He gave her a puzzled look. “There aren’t any bodies of water…”
“I know,” she said, swinging around the pink pole, “but it’s still cool!”
“Right.”
She set the pole down on a random shelf. “What about rock climbing gear?”
“What about it?” He was trying to decide which propane cooktop in the display would work best. There was no way he was building a fire every day from local brush to heat his food.
“To climb into the crevice. I think going down the well every day for a few months has alleviated my fear of plunging down a dark hole with only a thin line to save me from certain death.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her hyperbolic description of travelling down the well. Beyond being undeniably adorable, she did have a point; they should go down into the chasm and check it out. “Right, let’s get some rope, maybe some gloves, and some…”
“Great,” she interrupted, “I’m going over there to pick out a sleeping bag.” Prancing away, she left Peter alone to choose a cooktop. He finally decided the reliability of the premium model made up for the additional cost and collected the rest of the gear they would need.
Even though Grace insisted she didn’t need her own space, she had never been camping before and didn’t understand just how small a two-person tent could be. Instead, he picked out two medium-sized dome tents as well as a canopy to make a shaded work space.
Once purchased, they put the gear in Grace’s car and drove to Last Chance.
“Fuck, camping is expensive,” Grace said.
“Yes, well, the idea is that all of this equipment will last for more than two months, where a hotel bill would be around a hundred a night, for sixty nights.”
“Yeah, but hotels include unlimited coffee and housekeeping.”
“Touché.”
“We could hire a cleaning service for our campsite.” Grace smiled, glancing at Peter in the passenger seat.
He stared intently out the window, watching the landscape go by. “That seems impractical.”
She sighed, then turned on the radio. Peter was already lost in his thoughts.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Peter awoke with a start. “What the hell is that?” Grace exclaimed. He looked around, trying to remember his surroundings. They were still in Grace’s car en route to Last Chance. Blocking the way ahead sat a few traffic cones and a small orange triangle.
“Looks like a road block,” he said, wiping a hand over his face then rubbing his eyes. There was a soft thump as they drove over one of the cones, not even slowing down for the obstacle.
“Yes, but we already drove around a road block a while back, complete with barrels and scary-looking warning signs. That sad attempt to stop traffic looks like the stuff that comes standard in those crappy roadside assistance kits like the one my dad insists I keep in the trunk.”
Peter nodded in agreement, although having never owned a car, he had no idea what would be included in one of those kits.
“Plus,” she continued, “why do they need two road blocks? Wasn’t the first one enough?” They slowed down and she parked the car. They had already passed the rubble of the entrance to the well containing Peter’s equipment and were now only a few hundred feet from the chasm.
“Maybe an individual put it there,” he remarked.
“Yeah, but who? And why?”
“Well, there’s the answer for who.” He pointed at something in the distance. Half a mile away from the road, parked right next to the chasm, was an enormous RV.
“But then why are they here?” she asked. She tugged uncomfortably at the sleeve of her shirt. The car continued idling, as they pondered why there would be an RV camping out at the crevice.
“My guess would be they are into extreme sports and want to try climbing into the chasm.” He got out of the car and waited for her to pop the trunk so he could start setting up camp. He didn’t want to verbalize the other reason he could think for the RV to b
e parked here. The same reason they were here. Dr. Hall had expressed the desire to research the cause of the earthquake which had caused the chasm, and the RV very well could be his.
Perhaps Grace had the same thought, because she let a long bit of time pass before agreeing, “I guess you could be right.”
···
Peter felt strange setting up camp in Last Chance just a day after his geothermal generator had been smashed. Instead of erecting the tents directly next to the chasm, they decided to stay close to the entrance of the well. Somehow, the canopy had survived the earthquake, and would make a good location for their camp. Peter wanted to wait and see what the RV did before taking the chance of other people, specifically Dr. Hall, finding them there.
Grace surveyed what would be their new home for the next couple months. “Should we, like, build a fire?” The sun had already started to dip below the mountains. The sky was a dark shade of blue with wispy clouds illuminated in shades of orange and pink.
“No,” Peter said, rubbing a hand over his beard. He looked around and took in their campsite. Maybe he should have gotten more supplies. The temperature was significantly lower now than it had been during the day, and if it got much colder, they would really benefit from having foam mats to insulate their sleeping bags from the cold ground and hot water bottles to help keep them warm. Although he had bought a pot and a cook-top, perhaps a kettle would have been a nice addition as well.
“I’m hungry,” Grace said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Didn’t you save half of your sandwich from lunch?”
“Yes…” she said slowly, drawing out the word. She glanced at the car then back at Peter before sighing. “I kind of wanted to get the whole camping meal experience.”
“It’s nothing worth looking forward to. Trust me, before long you’ll be sick of camp cuisine.”
She gave another sigh before going back to the car to fetch her leftovers.
Peter was too anxious to eat. He wasn’t sure now why he’d agreed to return to Last Chance. Seismology wasn’t within his area of expertise. He should have gone back to his basement office in SLAU and focused on organizing the Advancements in Clean Energy or ACE conference. He wasn’t putting together the entire event, but he was in charge of coordinating the speakers and research lectures.
He had reserved the slot right after the keynote speaker this year, Dr. Martha Glass from the University of Hawaii, for himself. She was currently developing a new method for harnessing the energy from volcanic activity in a safer way. Attendees who lingered after her lecture might choose to stay and hear what he had to say about the, unfortunately still theoretical, use of geothermal habitation. But now he would have to cancel his own lecture.
What did he even expect to learn from being here? Dr. Hall would pinpoint the source of the earthquakes far before he could piece it all together. Although Dr. Hall may have been wrong about some of the facts quoted in the news. There was something else going on here, but Peter had no idea where to even start.
“What are you thinking?” Grace asked. He looked up to see her staring at him quizzically. How long had she been watching him?
He shrugged his shoulders. “Just wondering what I’m doing here.”
“We’re here to change how people live,” she said simply before returning to her food.
···
Peter woke up shivering. It was still dark out, and a quick check of his watch showed it was 1:20 am. A rustling sound came from just outside his tent, which must have been what had woken him up.
“Dr. Cork?” Grace whispered. “Are you awake?” She unzipped the door to his tent and poked her head in. Her eyes were wide and she was also shivering. “Dr. Cork? Wake up.”
“What is it, Grace?” he asked as he sat up. The breeze coming in through the opening of his tent was even colder than the air inside. It must have been below freezing. He pulled his sleeping bag to his chin, the cold penetrating even through his long johns.
She opened the door more before stepping into his tent and zipping it back closed behind her. “It is so fucking cold. I’m freezing and can’t sleep. All I can think about is how incredibly cold I am.”
He looked at her as she huddled next to the tent entrance, shivering. Her pajamas were made of thin material and not suitable for winter camping. “You should try wearing layers.”
Although a heat source would have been preferable, layers of fabric would insulate her, keeping her body heat in and the cold out. “Can I sleep with you?”
She couldn’t be serious. “Absolutely not.”
She stuck out her bottom lip. “Why not?”
“It’s completely inappropriate.” He was shocked that she didn’t see it, too. Even if she was no longer his intern, and her father had stopped funding his research, they were both single and he was almost ten years her senior.
Hugging herself as she shivered, she said, “Don’t be such a prude. I won’t tell anyone, if that will make you feel better.” When he didn’t respond, she hugged herself tighter. “If I die of hypothermia, it will be your fault.”
He could hear her father’s voice in his head, disapproving of his daughter’s infatuation with Peter and his work. On the other hand, he could hear Sunshine telling him that nothing was off limits between two consenting adults and urging him to live a little.
The war continued in his head as Grace crept in further and slipped into the sleeping bag next to him. Her limbs were like icicles.
“Just for tonight,” he insisted as she curled up next to him and pressed her face against his chest. He could feel her warm breath as she tucked an arm around his waist. “But after tomorrow, you need to sleep in your own tent. If you start the night with enough layers, you shouldn’t have a problem staying warm.”
She nodded her head. He could smell strawberry fragrance in her hair. She snuck a freezing cold foot over his, entwining their legs together. Even though she was so cold, he felt like his body was on fire. He was intensely uncomfortable being so close to her.
The night he had met her father played through his mind. What had she expected to happen when she’d invited him to her place? Was that what she was trying to do now? He lay there, his body rigid, afraid to move.
“Dr. Cork?” she whispered. “I’m really sorry about the generator. I tried to convince my dad to pay for another one, but he wouldn’t budge. I didn’t tell him I was going back to Last Chance.”
He tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. “Will he be upset?”
She took a deep breath. “He’ll get over it.”
Unable to sleep, he stared at the top of the tent. After a few minutes, Grace’s breathing slowed to the steady rhythm of sleep. When she had been asleep for a while, his body started to relax, although he was still afraid to move and accidentally wake her up.
His thoughts kept circling. Why did he come back here? What were Grace’s motives? And who was in that RV? He must have stayed up at least an hour as the anxious worries consumed his brain before he finally fell back asleep.
···
It was still cold out. At some point Peter had woken up and zipped his sleeping bag up to the top, covering his head. Although he couldn’t see Grace, he could feel her warm breath blow periodically against his chest. The tent was barely illuminated by the gentle glow of the sun rising.
As he stirred, Grace’s close proximity made him feel more and more anxious. He needed to get some space. Careful not to disturb her, he extricated himself from the sleeping bag and crept out of the tent into the cold morning. The chill of the air took his breath away.
He didn’t care how preciously limited their propane supply was, he needed coffee. A warm beverage would help both of them start the day.
After getting the cook-top out of the shopping bag in Grace’s car, he unboxed the contraption and flipped through the instruction booklet. It seemed straightforward enough. After a few minutes, he had it working and set some water on top. Once the kettle boiled, he poured s
ome into two mugs and added a scoop of instant coffee. Remembering her first day, he also dumped a good amount of sugar into the second cup.
Sitting back, he watched the sun rise in the east from behind the chasm. The dark sky slowly warmed in color to a deep red then pale yellow.
Rustling came from inside the tent as Grace emerged with his sleeping bag wrapped around her. “I made coffee,” he said, offering her a mug.
“Thank you.” She sat down on the ground next to him and looked toward the rising sun. They sat silently drinking their coffee.
“I think that RV is Dr. Hall,” she said, breaking the awkward silence.
“I think you’re right.”
She set her coffee on the hard ground and looked him in the face. “He has no right. This is your research.”
“No.” He glanced down at his mug, breaking eye contact. “He’s been studying geology much longer than I have. He already told me he would be looking into the Colorado earthquakes. Heck, I asked him to.”
“You gave him the reading from that one machine in the cavern, the span thing. Did he do anything with it?”
“Nope.” Peter drained the last bit of his coffee. “The tremors were probably all caused by fracking. I wouldn’t be surprised if it led to the earthquake that caused the chasm.”
“Ha,” she burst out. “I doubt that. My dad said new regulations on fracking have caused most energy companies to pull out of Colorado. I seriously doubt that’s the cause.”
“Really?” he asked. He wasn’t aware of any regulation and tried to keep up on those things by following the news.
“Yeah really. There’s only a tiny area of land where fracking is still permitted. On top of that, there are huge tax incentives to pump out oil off the coast where it’s more readily available.”
Recalling Dr. Hall’s report of the chasm, Peter pressed her, “Is fracking permitted in Montana and New Mexico?”
She shrugged. “Sure, but that’s not where the oil is.”