At Fault

by Beth Martin

  “You don’t mean that,” Peter said, slowly inching closer to Dr. Hall.

  “Oh I definitely do,” he said. The drone had disappeared deep into the well, the thrashing of the blades now inaudible. “Here,” he said, handing the controller to Eileen, who stood behind him. “Bring it back up.”

  “Why the hell are you blowing up the ground?” Autumn yelled.

  “Peter should know,” Dr. Hall said. He was walking toward them, then stopped ten feet away from the trio.

  “I assure you I do not,” Peter said.

  “You’re a smart man. Figure it out.”

  When Peter didn’t say anything, Dr. Hall continued. “I did great work in geothermal energy, pioneering the research into geothermal habitation.”

  Grace looked at Peter, and he nodded his head to confirm that this was the truth.

  “The theory was all there. So, I did it. I built a habitat.” Now Grace’s eyes were wide. “If it would have worked, I could have changed the way people lived. I would have gotten a Nobel Prize.”

  “But… Peter was…” Grace stammered.

  “Yes,” Dr. Hall said. “Peter was also researching geothermal habitation. See, my habitat prototype, which I built with my own money, was demolished because it was too close to a proposed oil drill. When they started fracking, the reserve stretched too close to my habitat. It crumbled with the high-pressure water, leaving me with nothing.

  “You see, fracking is bad for the lithosphere. It tears it apart. But how was I going to prove that? Especially with America’s love affair with fossil fuels. I had to show that this oil mongering was literally ripping the country apart. Poetic, isn’t it?”

  Grace started yelling something, but was cut off by the drone rising from the well right beside her. She ducked down, trying to stay away from it, but stumbled. She grasped onto the side of the drone, but it wasn’t enough. The flying device shot back up while she went tumbling down into the well.

  “Grace,” Peter yelled, stumbling to the edge. “Grace!”

  The sound of her yells made his gut turn. He got up and ran at Dr. Hall, not sure what he would do to the man. He grasped Dr. Hall’s shoulders, staring him in the face, his hands trembling with pure hatred.

  “Peter?” she shrieked. He could hear the fear in her voice. She was barely hanging onto a ledge. “Help, I can’t hold on for long.”

  “Autumn, the rope!” Peter shouted.

  Dr. Hall smiled at them as they scrambled. “I need to go. You could try to save your intern, but the explosives are going off in a few minutes, so you won’t all be able to get out.” He and Eileen jumped into the red car, and he shouted, “Goodbye,” before they sped off.

  Peter went back to the side of the well, peering down as he strained to see Grace. “Grace,” he yelled. “Autumn is getting some rope. I’ll be right down there to help you out.”

  “Hurry,” she pleaded.

  “I’ve got the rope,” Autumn said as she rushed to Peter’s side.

  “Secure it to the tow hitch,” he instructed, tying in a slip knot to loop around the Jeep. As she secured the rope, he tied the other end around his waist. “I’m going in.”

  He rappelled down as quickly as he dared, his hands rubbing raw against the rope with no gloves for protection. He had forgotten to grab a helmet or flashlight and couldn’t see much this deep down.

  “Grace!” he yelled.

  “Over here,” she called.

  He slowed down as he got closer. He didn’t want to accidentally ram into her and make her fall off her ledge. “I’m almost there,” he shouted.

  “I see you,” she said. “I can almost reach your leg. Just come down a little more.”

  Her fingers grasped at his shoe. “Let me get a bit closer.” He could almost see the pale color of her hair. With one hand on his rope, he wrapped his other arm around her. “Hold onto my waist.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief as she wrapped her arms around him. She was safe, at least for now. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

  “Wait,” she said. “What about the explosives?”

  “We don’t have time.”

  “They’re down here somewhere. If we don’t stop them, there’s no way we’ll survive the blast.”

  His hands cramped as he gripped the rope tightly. “I don’t know how to defuse a bomb, do you?”

  “We have to try,” she pleaded.

  “Look, I don’t have time to argue. Autumn, pull us up!” he shouted.

  “No,” Grace insisted. “I saw the drone go down over there.” She pointed across the well to a spot on the other side.

  “When Autumn and I checked out the other earthquakes, we saw they had been caused by several explosives, not just one big one. Even if we did know how to deactivate them, I have no idea how many there are, and they’ll definitely go off before we get them all.”

  The Jeep’s engine turned over, and the vehicle started slowly moving away, pulling at the rope and lifting them out of the well. When they got to the surface, Grace pleaded, “We have to do something. We can’t let Dr. Hall get away with this. We need to somehow turn off the explosive.”

  Autumn stopped the Jeep for a moment, waiting for the other two to get in. “You know how the military deals with bombs?” she shouted. Peter rushed to the vehicle, dragging Grace along with him. “They detonate them!”

  “Maybe we can knock it deeper into the well, then,” Grace said, pulling away from Peter.

  “That won’t be enough.” Peter said. He was sure their time was almost up and was starting to panic.

  “We can’t let him win,” Grace shouted, tears coming to her eyes.

  “No, but we can stay alive.”

  He shoved her into the car, climbing in after her, but instead of speeding off, Autumn turned back to look at them. “They can’t detonate it,” she said.

  “What?” he asked, confused and anxious that they weren’t putting as much distance between them and that hole as possible.

  “The bomb has an antenna. They could either have if go off on a timer or use a radio signal. I’m betting on radio signal, probably from that drone. No signal, radio, cellular, nothing, could get through all that earth,” Autumn added. “The only way to set it off would be from above.”

  “Dr. Hall said we only had a few minutes. That makes it pretty clear it was a timer,” Peter said. Even in the cool of the night, sweat dripped along the side of his face and down his back.

  Grace jumped back out of the Jeep. “It makes sense. If he flew the drone directly over the well, it could send a signal to all the bombs below to make them go off simultaneously.”

  “What exactly do you propose we do?” he asked, looking from Autumn to Grace.

  Grace ran back to the edge of the enormous hole. “We remove the bombs. If they could withstand transportation on a drone, it’s sturdy enough for us to move it.”

  “I’ll move the Jeep closer,” Autumn said. She drove around the well to where the explosive was planted. Neither woman waited for Peter’s acceptance of the plan.

  Grace turned on the light on her cell phone and tucked it in the front of her shirt so the light shone outward.

  “Come on, Peter,” she said. “Climb down with me. Autumn, you keep a look out.”

  “I can’t,” he pleaded, his knees trembling.

  “Yes, you can,” Grace said. The way she said it—a matter of fact statement of ultimate truth—gave him just enough courage to climb out of the car and double check the knots on the rope.

  They descended slower than normal, Grace rotating from side to side to illuminate the soil walls with her phone. “Where did it go?” she whispered as she methodically scanned every inch.

  A small, blinking-green light caught his attention. “Over there,” he said, pointing to the right.

  “Autumn, bring us fifteen feet to the right,” Grace shouted. The Jeep and the ropes tied to it moved around the edge until Grace and Peter were directly in front of the device. “That’s g
ood,” she said. She examined the compact device. “It looks too small to cause any serious damage.”

  “It’s probably not the only one.” He looked down, trying to see if there were any more little lights which would indicate more explosives. “Unless…” He had a flash of insight. “The map. Pull up the SPS map of the test sites for the laser drill.”

  Grace pulled her cell phone out from the top of her shirt and started tapping at the screen. “I can’t pull it up,” she said. “I don’t have it saved on my phone, and there’s no reception down here.”

  “Maybe Autumn can get it on her phone.”

  “No, it’s restricted access. Why do you need a map?”

  “Guys,” Autumn shouted from above. “They’re coming back! I see headlights coming toward us.”

  “There’s a really productive oil rig near here. If this well is close to the reserve that feeds that rig, then just one little explosive would be enough to ignite the methane gas inside, leading to a much bigger explosion.”

  “Yeah, it’s definitely them, and they’re almost here,” Autumn yelled.

  Grace grabbed the small explosive and yanked it away from the earth wall of the well. A single spike had held it in place. The dirt behind the explosive started to crumble away, and thick tar oozed out of the growing hole.

  “Oh shit,” she said as more earth fell away, and slick, black oil began to flow freely, seeping onto their rope.

  “We’ve got to get out!” Peter shouted. He tried climbing the rope, but the oil had gotten on his shoes, and he couldn’t get any traction.

  Black liquid started sputtering and then spraying out of the ground. Grace let out a yell as the stuff splashed onto her. “My hands are slipping,” she shrieked. Peter tried to grab a hold of her, but instead got oil all over his hand as he grasped at her arm.

  “What should I do with the bomb?” she asked, trying her best not to slip down her rope.

  “Just throw it down,” he said. “If it doesn’t ignite the oil reserve, we might make it.”

  She tossed the explosive, and the little green light disappeared into the abyss. But as she let go, her hand slipped and she fell as well.

  “Grace!” Peter yelled, sliding down his own rope to the end where she hung limp, the rope tangled around her body. He wrapped an arm around her, and her breath warmed his shoulder. He hoped they would make it out

  “Autumn!” he shouted. “Pull us up.”

  “It’s too late,” Dr. Hall said. Peter looked up to see Dr. Hall’s silhouette illuminated by the headlamps of his sport car. The little drone whizzed up into the air, and a moment later a blindingly bright light flashed from below, followed by a deafening boom.

  Peter squeezed his eyes shut tight as he held Grace close. His ears made a loud ringing that drowned out any other sound, and he was temporarily blinded. The sudden sensation of his rope going slack was all he could feel while they jostled through space.

  It became quiet and still. At first, he thought he was dead, but Grace was still there in his arms. They were safely secured on the rope.

  “Are you okay?” Autumn called.

  The air was thick with smoke and debris, making him cough. He struggled to get out the words, “Take us up”

  The engine of the Jeep revved and pulled the rope, slowly bringing Peter and Grace to the surface. When they got to the top, he gently laid Grace down on the sturdy ground.

  “Grace?” he said softly, placing a hand on her dirty cheek.

  Autumn put the car in park and ran over to them. “Is she all right? Is she breathing?”

  Her chest wasn’t rising. “I don’t think so.”

  Autumn sprung into action, squatting next to Grace, tilting back her head, and breathing into her mouth. “Does she have a pulse?”

  He pressed a couple finger to her neck. “No, I don’t feel one.”

  “Shit,” Autumn got down to her knees next to Grace’s limp body. “Help her breathe. I’ll do chest compressions.” Autumn pressed down on her chest in short bursts while Peter took over breathing into her mouth.

  “Check her pulse again,” Autumn instructed.

  He felt her neck. “Nothing.” He kept breathing into her mouth until Grace suddenly kicked her legs and took in a huge gasp.

  “Are you okay?” Autumn asked loudly. Grace didn’t speak, but she nodded her head.

  “Oh my God,” Peter said, pulling her up into an embrace. All the tension and adrenaline that had knotted up in his body burst through. He wept, his tears flowing into her hair, which now smelled of dirt and oil. “I thought I lost you,” he said.

  She weakly hugged him back, whispering, “I’m still here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  They drove in silence back to Denver. Dr. Hall, Eileen, and the red sports car were nowhere to be seen. Peter sat in the back seat with Grace curled up next to him, her head in his lap. He was so glad they had survived, but was afraid that if he took his eyes off of her, even for a second, she wouldn’t be there when he looked back.

  “I’m taking you to the hospital,” Autumn said.

  “Please don’t. I’m fine,” Grace said.

  Peter brushed a hand over her tangled hair. “Your heart stopped.”

  “It’s beating now.”

  Autumn glanced at the pair through the rear-view mirror. “It might stop again.”

  “I just want to get some sleep,” Grace said.

  “You’ll be able to sleep in the hospital,” Peter said, gently squeezing her shoulder.

  “Fine,” she said. Her eyelids fluttered before shutting.

  “What did Dr. Hall do when he realized his explosives didn’t work?” Peter asked.

  “You didn’t see?” Autumn said. “It was pretty creepy. Right after he pressed a button, he just jumped in.”

  “What? Why?”

  “He was expecting an earth-splitting earthquake. Dropping into a fiery blast would be a pretty instantaneous demise.”

  “But, his car...”

  “The other person was in it. She drove away before I could get you guys out.”

  Grace let out a moan.

  “What’s wrong?” Peter asked.

  “Can you guys be quiet? I’m trying to sleep.”

  “Don’t worry, Grace,” Autumn said. “We’ll be there soon.”

  ···

  The first rays of sun crept between the blinds of the small room. The steady beep of the heart rate monitor was so comforting, Peter was able to fall asleep himself.

  The nurses only ran a few basic tests, and when everything looked normal, the doctor recommended Grace stay for overnight observation. If everything continued to look good, she would get discharged the next day.

  He woke up with a crick in his neck. The hospital arm chair was even less comfortable than sleeping on the floor of his office. He looked over at Grace and watched her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm as she slept. She needed rest, and wouldn’t be up for a while. He slipped out of her room to head to the cafeteria.

  Her phone was in his pocket. He pulled it out and found her father among her contacts and pressed the green call button.

  “Hey, sweetheart. How’s Malibu?”

  “Um, this is Dr. Peter Cork.”

  “Dr. Cork?” His tone went quickly from gentle to hostile. “Where’s Grace?”

  “Grace is fine. She’s not hurt, but she did have an accident. They’re just holding her in the hospital for observation.”

  “Hospital? What happened?”

  “Her heart stopped,” Peter said. “Only for a moment.”

  Peter was prepared for angry yelling, but the stretch of silence was even worse. “I take it she’s not in Malibu.”

  “No, sir. We’re in Denver.”

  “Denver? For fucks sake! I told her to stay away from you and that blasted place.”

  Peter had no idea what he was supposed to say.

  “Look, sorry. I’m not mad at you―I’m mad at my daughter. Could I please talk to her?”
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  “She’s sleeping right now.”

  “Fine, let her sleep. When she wakes up, ask her to call me.”

  “Of course,” Peter said before hanging up the phone.

  ···

  The nurses had graciously given Peter some blank paper, and he used it to jot down notes on the past day’s events. It he was lucky, he’d be able to write an article on the entire experience. He was officially unemployed, homeless, and broke. They had successfully prevented a catastrophic earthquake, and he idly wondered how he could add that to his CV.

  “Peter,” Grace whispered. He looked up to see her awake.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Did it split?” she asked.

  He set down his notes and pen and clasped her hand in his. “No. You saved the day.”

  “The bomb went off.”

  “But the oil reserve didn’t explode.”

  She took a shaky breath. “I don’t think geology is for me.”

  Previously, he would have been offended by that statement. “That’s okay.”

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  He chuckled.

  “Peter,” she said again.

  “Yes?”

  “I love you. Not, like, romantically, but I care about you. If you ever need anything, I want to be there for you, like you’ve been for me.”

  He tucked her hair behind her ear. She smiled weakly as he kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I love you too.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Peter opened the current Journal of Earth and Planetary Science to the front page. A picture of himself looking uncomfortable in a suit was among a handful of geologists’ portraits. He was listed as a contributor.

  He flipped ahead to his article. “Too Much of a Good Thing: Taking Seismic Events into Account when Planning Geothermal Energy Plants.” The title was a mouthful, but that was just how academic articles were. This was only the second of a series of papers he was working on which examined the impact of drilling and fracking.