At Fault

by Beth Martin

  “Thanks, Peter,” she said softly. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his downy coat. After letting go, she looked back at the RV. “But seriously, who makes that much noise while screwing? Especially when they have company and are in a tight space with a thin wall.”

  “I think some people just like the audible reinforcement that they’re enjoying a mutually pleasurable experience.”

  She smiled. “Only you could describe sex moans so technically.” She paused. “It’s quiet. I think they’re done.”

  Peter leaned against her as they walked back to the RV. Without a shoe on his injured foot, the cold permeating his sock helped ease the pain, but also made it harder to walk. He was glad to get back to the warm interior of the camper.

  “I’m going to bed,” Grace announced. She dumped her coat on the booth of the dining/living area and pulled off her shoes, leaving them in the middle of the floor. Even though Eileen wasn’t in the bottom bunk, and there was no sign it had even been used, Grace climbed over it into the top bunk. She closed the curtain, disappearing into her private little sleeping pod.

  Peter felt overwhelmingly tired. He tucked his own coat and one shoe under his bed before drawing his own curtain, blocking the back bed from the rest of the RV. After crawling under the covers, he quickly fell asleep.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Peter was back at his office at SLAU. Not his basement office, but one of the nice ones on the top floor of West Hall with picture windows overlooking the courtyard. The trees were lush with leaves as birds’ chirping filled the air. The sun filtered down on the picturesque scene of a trio of students tossing a frisbee on the green lawn.

  A sharp knock came from his door, which opened to reveal Grace wearing a tiny red bikini.

  He was glad to see her and got up from his desk to greet her.

  “Professor Cork,” she cooed. She turned to close the door behind her before strolling up to his desk.

  “Grace, what a wonderful surprise. I heard you changed majors to geology.”

  “I did,” she said, a smile spreading across her face. “I actually wanted to sign up for your class on metamorphic petrology next quarter, but the registrar said it was full.”

  “You could still drop in and attend the lectures.”

  “I need the credit,” she said, placing her hands on his desk and leaning forward. He had a sudden strong urge to close the small gap between their faces, but decided not to act on it.

  “Just get on the wait-list. I’ll make sure to be a total hardass the first couple weeks until someone drops and makes room for you.” It was a preposterous suggestion, but he would gladly do it for her.

  “Thank you,” she said, standing up straight again.

  She started tugging on the small triangles of fabric which concealed her breasts. “I think I got sand in my top. It really itches.”

  “Then take it off.”

  With a quick tug on the strings, the red top came tumbling off and landed on the floor. He should have been shocked to have her here in his office mostly naked, but instead it felt totally natural.

  She strolled to the wall and examined the pictures he had hanging there. “What’s this?” she asked, pointing to a particular frame.

  Peter walked up behind her and placed his hands on her waist. “That’s a picture of Mono Lake.”

  “I’ve never heard of it,” she admitted, resting her hands on top of his.

  “It’s a huge, shallow lake. It was formed by crustal stretching and volcanic activity. Since it doesn’t drain out to the ocean, the water has a high salinity. It’s so high that no fish can survive there. It’s maybe three or four hundred miles north of here.”

  “You’ve been there?” she asked.

  He rested his cheek on her head and breathed in her smell of strawberries. She reminded him of home and how his grandmother would spend the entire day in their kitchen baking a perfect strawberry pie from scratch.

  “I have,” he said. “That’s my mom in the picture.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “We went there on vacation when I was ten. The area is so majestic, and the geologic features are simply stunning. That trip was what originally piqued my interest in geology.”

  She turned to face him and laced her fingers behind his neck. Staring into his eyes, she said, “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked

  “For letting me in.”

  He kissed her softly, pulling her waist even closer to him.

  “Oh, Peter,” she whispered before kissing him back. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and closed the gap between their bodies. He pressed her back into the wall, pinning her against it with his hips. Even her lips tasted like strawberry. As he kissed her neck just below her ear, she started to moan and wrapped her legs around him.

  He rocked against her, and as she moaned in pleasure she threw a hand up in the air. She hit the picture of Mono Lake and it fell off the wall. As it hit the floor, glass exploded everywhere.

  ···

  He woke up in a cold sweat. His ankle was throbbing. Although he had gotten used to waking up with Grace lying next to him, he was relieved to find himself in bed alone.

  That dream.

  And why had he been teaching a class on rocks?

  He sat up and placed his hands on his left ankle. It was fiery hot. His first-aid kit probably had ibuprofen in it; he should take some. He slid to the edge of the bed, but his quick movements jarred his hurt ankle. Yelping in pain, he tried to steady himself, placing both feet on the cool floor. If he could just focus on taking a few deep breaths, he’d calm down. Then he could look through his luggage and find some medicine.

  “Peter?” Grace’s voice came from her bunk. He was too embarrassed. He didn’t want her attention. Carefully leaning forward, he pulled aside his curtain and tried to stand. He gasped in pain and had to sit right back down. “It that you?” she asked.

  He had to push his feelings and the vivid dream aside. “Yes,” he whispered.

  “Is something wrong?” She pulled back her curtain and poked out her head. Soft curls of blond hair tumbled down, framing her concerned face. He could still see her in his imaginary top floor office, asking to enroll in his class.

  “My ankle,” he said. “I need painkillers. I think there are some in my first-aid kit.”

  “You need me to go get it?”

  “Yes, please.” He continued to sit at the edge of his bed while she rummaged through their things.

  “Oh good,” she said. “You’ve got Tylenol and Motrin.”

  “Motrin,” he said.

  Grace got a glass of water before approaching him, then carefully took a seat next to him on the bed. “Take both,” she instructed, handing him the glass of water while she opened the blister packs for the pills. “They have different ingredients and don’t have any negative interactions.” She set the handful of pills in his palm, and he immediately swallowed the tablets. “My mom is sort of a pill expert. Especially in the realm of painkillers. You should elevate your ankle.”

  She helped him lift his throbbing foot back onto the bed. “Oh, Peter,” she exclaimed, “Your ankle is really swollen. You need to ice it.”

  It was all too much—Grace’s concerned tone and the dream. He laid back in his bed and closed his eyes.

  Grace rushed to the kitchen, looking for a bag of some sort. She reached under the sink and pulled out the little trash can, dumping the contents into the sink. Removing the liner, she opened the door and stepped outside. She hadn’t even bothered getting her coat. A moment later, she returned. Sitting down next to Peter, she pressed the bag now filled with snow against his throbbing ankle. The cold made him jump, but after a moment it finally started feeling a little better.

  “It’s snowing right now,” she said. “Like, coming down.” When he didn’t respond, she asked, “Is this helping at all?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted, “it’s helping.”

  She l
eft the bag of snow balanced on his ankle and lied down next to him on the bed. She pressed her nose against his neck, and he could almost smell the scent of strawberries on her hair.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  He just wanted to go back to sleep and didn’t think he was capable of having a deep conversation with the woman who had just starred in his strange dream.

  “I just—” she started, “—I just wanted so badly to figure out what caused that earthquake. Some part of me thought that finding the reason for the quake would somehow make up for the fact that the generator got destroyed. It’s silly, but…” She trailed off.

  He took a deep breath. Sleep. He needed to sleep.

  “I should have guessed that the chasm would have been invisible in all the snow. I was just really foolish.” She sniffled, and he could feel her warm tears against his neck.

  “It’s my fault we’re even here,” she continued. “I should have let us return to LA, get back to our own lives.” She rubbed her eyes with a hand and gave another small sniffle.

  “I…” she paused, rubbing her eyes again. “I just really wanted to spend more time with you.” She reached her hand down to his and interlaced their fingers.

  As she drifted off to sleep, Peter finally let himself open his eyes. He wanted to spend more time with her as well.

  ···

  When he woke again, he’d expected Grace to be beside him. Instead, he was alone. For an instant, he missed having her next to him. As he sat up, he saw the improvised ice pack was now a sad, torn bag and wet spot at the foot of the bed. His ankle felt much better. His privacy curtain had been closed again. Beyond, he could hear hushed voices conversing.

  Checking quickly to ensure he was decent, he got up and drew back the curtain.

  “Look who finally decided to wake up,” Dr. Hall said from the dining booth.

  Grace turned to face him from her side of the booth. “Good morning, Dr. Cork.”

  “Morning,” Peter greeted.

  “Help yourself to some coffee,” Dr. Hall instructed. “Eileen is outside doing her morning yoga. Insists on doing it in the fresh air.”

  Peter poured himself a cup of coffee. Since Dr. Hall was taking up the entire side of the booth, Peter slid in next to Grace.

  “We were just talking about the earthquakes,” she said.

  “Yes,” Dr. Hall agreed. “We’ve been working while you’ve slept the morning away.”

  “He had a rough night,” Grace said.

  “Oh?” Dr. Hall raised a single brow.

  Peter wished Grace hadn’t said anything. “My ankle kept me awake,” he said. “It feels much better now, though.”

  “Good.” She flashed him a smile before pushing papers covered in data and charts in front of him. “These are all from the span reader in the cavern,” she said.

  He looked down at the pages, recognizing his data.

  “What’s missing,” Dr. Hall said, “is the readings from the big earthquake a week ago. You should have integrated that span device in your little generator experiment. I haven’t really had a chance to investigate the big crack, but I believe it’s just superficial. I think there will be more earthquakes that will cause the North American plate to spit in two.”

  “That’s a considerable theory,” Peter said.

  “Is it even possible?” Grace asked.

  Dr. Hall leaned forward, his face uncomfortably close across the small table. “Until recently I would have said no. But in 2012, the Indo-Australian plate started to do just that.”

  Peter shook his head. “Yes, but the Indo-Australian plate is being pulled in every direction. The North American plate isn’t under nearly the same amount of strain.”

  “I assume you’ve seen the big crack,” Dr. Hall said, noisily slurping down his coffee. “I’d say it takes a great bit of strain to make that.”

  Peter didn’t want to argue, so he got up and helped himself to a second cup of coffee. Plates didn’t just split out of the blue. There were signs of stress that indicated the Indo-Australian plate bad been going to split decades before the massive earthquake.

  Looking out the kitchen window, he saw Eileen outside balancing on her arms and toes. She was wearing tight clothing which revealed her athletic figure. Still, she must be freezing.

  “You’re welcome to join me when I take my drone out later today. I want to get some more aerial pictures of the cavern.”

  Peter tore his eyes away from the window. “I’ll go.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Dr. Hall loaned Peter a pair of shoes. He was glad to finally be able to cover both feet again, even if they were a little big. He walked slowly, cautious of his healing ankle, and Grace trailed behind while Dr. Hall and Eileen got farther and farther ahead.

  “We’ll start here,” Dr. Hall yelled back to them. This area of the chasm wasn’t blocked with snow. He took the controller off the sled and pressed a few buttons. The rotors of the drone began to spin and hum as it lifted slowly.

  Eileen held a laptop which displayed the live feed from the drone’s camera. As they got closer, Peter could make out the snowy terrain on the screen.

  “Instead of setting up right next to the road,” Dr. Hall said, glancing back at Peter and Grace, “we parked my RV right at the widest point of the crack.”

  “Then why did we have to walk so far?” Grace whispered. Eileen turned to give her a stern look before focusing back on the drone feed.

  Dr. Hall maneuvered the drone around, expertly bending the little joysticks under his thumbs. “What’s the span today, Eileen?”

  She clicked a couple points on the screen before declaring, “Fifteen feet four inches.”

  “What do you mean today?” Grace asked.

  “It’s getting bigger,” Eileen said. “Eight days ago it was fifteen feet one inch.”

  “Are you sure those measurements are accurate?” Peter asked, pointing to the laptop screen. “There’s a certain amount of error calculating distances with just a 2D image, especially without any points of reference and the snow obscuring the terrain.”

  Eileen rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s accurate. We know the height of the drone.”

  “How do you know how high it is?” Grace asked.

  “Muscle memory,” Dr. Hall said, raising the controller to indicate his fingers manipulating the joysticks and buttons.

  Peter tried to scratch his beard with his gloved hand, but the rubbery palms of his gloves pulled at each hair, so he quickly stopped. Even if the distance was correct, erosion could be expected on the edges of the new chasm, and that amount of change could easily be due to the sandy ground crumbling. Even so, the snow on top would be throwing off the number.

  There hadn’t been any seismic activity since the big earthquake. For any remarkable changes in the chasm, they would expect another big earthquake. If the North American plate was in fact splitting, they could expect many more big earthquakes.

  Dr. Hall flew the drone north to get more footage of the chasm. “What we really need,” he said, “are depth measurements. But we’re going to wait until some of this snow melts to do that.”

  “What’s that?” Grace said, pointing to something on the screen. Suddenly the drone pitched to the side, changing the image. “Go back,” she told Dr. Hall. “There was a giant dark circle. Like a hole.”

  “What, this?” Dr. Hall flew the drone a ways away before pointing it at a mound of snow. “That’s just a shadow.”

  “No, it wasn’t a shadow,” she insisted. “It was a perfectly circular hole.”

  Eileen slammed the laptop shut. “I think we’ve gotten all the data we need for the day.”

  “I think you’re right,” Dr. Hall agreed, piloting the drone back to them and landing it gently back on the sled.

  Again, Eileen and Dr. Hall walked ahead while Grace matched Peter’s much slower pace. By the time Peter and Grace reached the RV, Eileen was already busy preparing dinner inside while Dr. Hall put away h
is equipment.

  “Hey, Peter,” Grace whispered. “Can I borrow your laptop for a minute?”

  “Of course.”

  Grace found it among all of Peter’s stuff under his bed before retreating into her own bunk and closing the curtain.

  ···

  The next few days passed similar to the first. The group of four journeyed to the chasm to get drone footage and take measurements, although the drone’s flight path always avoided the mysterious hole Grace had pointed out the first time. They would make strained conversation over meals of freeze- dried food. Evenings were either nice and quiet, in which case Peter could work on his online course, or uncomfortably loud from Dr. Hall and Eileen’s sessions. As soon as Grace suspected there would be a good deal of noise, she would immediately retreat outside.

  Peter understood it was an essential biological function, but as their current love fest escalated, he found the yells and moans overly grating. He shrugged on his coat and went outside.

  “I was wondering how long it would take you to join me,” Grace said.

  “I think they were trying to role play as—”

  “Stop right there,” she yelped, raising a hand. “I don’t want to know.”

  “Teen vampires.” Peter smiled as she covered her face.

  “Oh God. When is this snow ever going to melt?”

  “Not soon enough.”

  Grace tucked her hands under her arms and swayed back and forth, trying to keep warm. “I always thought listening to other people hook up would be kind of sexy, but those two take it to a whole other level.”

  He didn’t want to have a drawn-out conversation about his colleague’s affair, so he didn’t respond.

  “Hey, when we go back inside, can I borrow your laptop again?”

  “Sure.”

  After a sufficient amount of time, they went back inside and were greeted by loud snoring. Peter pulled out his laptop and handed it to Grace before retreating to his sleeping quarters. He grabbed a fresh set of clothes and went to the bathroom to wash up.

  Although he was able to wet a washcloth with warm water in the luxury RV, there wasn’t enough water to take a proper shower. When the snow melted, they would visit Denver where he could enjoy a long hot shower. Just the thought of it was exciting.