Wild Read online

  WILD

  An Aftershock Novel

  Jill Sorenson

  Copyright © 2014 by Jill Sorenson

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

  Kindle Edition

  Wild passion

  Zookeeper Helena Fjord has a dangerous job at San Diego’s Wildlife Park. She’s got no time for nonsense, and no interest in handsome, laid-back security officer Josh Garrison. She steers clear of his silly pranks and sexy smile. Until disaster strikes.

  Natural instincts

  Josh has been coasting ever since his Navy SEAL dreams went up in smoke. He’s always had the hots for Helena, but the lady is off-limits. When a devastating earthquake hits, the unlikely pair must work together to secure the park’s borders. With wild animals on the loose, aftershocks imminent, and fires blazing across the city, they face serious peril—and a powerful attraction. Josh vows to protect Helena at all costs. But who will safeguard her heart?

  Publisher’s Note:

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Author's Note

  Excerpt from Wild for Him

  Excerpt from Backwoods

  CHAPTER ONE

  HELENA FJORD LOVED being an elephant keeper.

  She’d worked at San Diego’s Wildlife Park for ten years now, and she never got tired of studying the African elephants. Their size and strength awed her. She could watch them for hours, interpreting every tail twitch and ear flap. Communication among the herd was an endless source of fascination to her. But she always admired the animals from afar because keepers were required to maintain a safe distance.

  These “gentle giants” could be extremely territorial. They were intelligent creatures, prone to mood swings and fits of temper. Elephants in captivity had been known to throw logs at electric fences and climb over the backs of their comrades to escape. They attacked zoo employees and trampled circus workers on a regular basis. Tending elephants used to be one of the most dangerous jobs in America.

  Now that protected-contact methods had replaced free contact, accidents were less frequent. There was no elephant show in San Diego, no tricks performed for the crowd. Helena didn’t wield a bull hook for intimidation purposes. She didn’t even touch the animals without a sturdy gate between them.

  This morning she followed her typical routine. The maintenance crew had already cleared away several hundred pounds of dung, a normal amount. She inspected the yard, ensuring that the animals had fresh water and other amenities.

  After a thorough check, she headed back toward the barn, where the elephants were eating breakfast. A large hydraulic gate separated the barn from the yard. Her coworker, Kim, was in the keeper area of the barn. It had a roof, open sides and access to the feeding troughs. The animals were on the other side, behind thick iron bars.

  Instead of joining her coworker, Helena stayed in the sunshine, enjoying its warmth on the top of her head. The park wouldn’t open for another hour, and they were ahead of schedule. It was rare to get a quiet moment like this.

  Helena scanned the ten-acre yard with pride. This was the largest elephant enclosure in the country. It boasted huge wading pools, wide-open spaces and dusty hills. Faux rock walls created an eye-pleasing border, and sturdy tree-shaped structures offered enrichment. The elephants had to solve puzzles to reach the snack rewards inside. They required mental tasks to stay sharp, as well as long walks and regular pedicures.

  Over the past ten years, Helena had handled wild animals of all sizes and temperaments. She’d been bitten, scratched and urinated on more times than she could count. And she wouldn’t trade a second of it. Because she’d also bottle-fed a baby chimp. She’d watched Bengal tigers mate, resuscitated a newborn giraffe and assisted with elephant labor. Every day at the zoo promised a new adventure. This was exactly what she wanted to do with her life.

  Soon the park would be bustling with visitors. The weather was perfect—cool and bright. Many of the local schools were on spring break, which meant more families. More children.

  Helena had always been more comfortable around animals than people, but lately she’d found herself staring at young parents with envy. She’d watched the pretty mothers pushing strollers and the cute dads with toddlers on their shoulders.

  San Diego was full of rich, attractive people. They procreated just as beautifully as they did everything else.

  Her musings were interrupted by an approaching golf cart. It rocketed up the path and sped through the entrance to Heart of Africa, the section of the park where she worked. The vehicle zigzagged around the play structures in the nearby kid zone before hitting a slick section of paw-print-covered concrete. There, the driver slammed on the brakes and cranked the wheel to the right, executing a flashy 180-degree turn. The maneuver had no purpose, other than showing off.

  Helena recognized Josh Garrison’s signature style. The chief security guard was an idiot. A handsome, charming idiot. Somehow his reckless behavior and juvenile stunts hadn’t resulted in any injuries. He’d even managed to get promoted.

  His lack of professionalism irritated her. She shoveled elephant crap by the truckload, sweating her ass off, while he cruised around the park, popping wheelies and cracking jokes. He came in to work straight from the beach, his hair wet from surfing and sand on his neck like he didn’t give a damn. His pranks were legendary with the guys in the herpetology department. This winter, he’d sported a goofy mustache. Maybe it was supposed to be ironic, but all of the female employees had twittered about how cute he looked.

  Helena wasn’t sure why she had such a negative reaction to him. Her father had been the same type, brash and devil-may-care. He’d lived fast and died young. There was nothing dreamy or romantic about burning alive.

  Josh was doing a basic grounds check, which didn’t require spin-outs in the kid zone or stopping to say hello. He glanced across the elephant exhibit and touched his temple in mock salute. Kim smiled and waved. Helena didn’t.

  Her antagonism toward him wasn’t a secret. He seemed to find it amusing. He’d even asked her out once, perhaps to spite her. She’d avoided him ever since. He didn’t need any more attention from women.

  Josh exited his golf cart and removed the lid of a nearby recycling bin to peer inside. Maintenance emptied the containers every night, so there was nothing to see. He leaned too far forward and fell in, doing a handstand with his legs akimbo.

  Kim laughed at his antics, delighted.

  Helena returned her gaze to the elephants, annoyed. She never knew what he was going to do next. He made her feel like she was on a rollercoaster, anticipating a steep drop or wild curve.

  His behavior had never cross the line into harassment, so she couldn’t complain. For a man with a relaxed work
ethic, he was good at his job. Park visitors loved him. He responded to emergencies, escorted rowdy tourists to the exit and recovered lost children with ease.

  After he left, zipping away in his golf cart, Kim glanced at Helena. “What are you doing this weekend?”

  Helena pictured her empty social calendar. “Nothing, why?”

  “I’m having a housewarming party Saturday night. You should stop by with Mitch.”

  Kim had just gotten married in Las Vegas—to a man she’d only been dating six weeks. Helena couldn’t imagine making such an impulsive decision. She’d been with someone for six years and she still had no idea where they were going.

  “Mitch is in Denver,” Helena said.

  “Oh, right. When’s he coming back?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  Maybe never.

  Mitch had accepted a new job at an engineering company in January. He’d been unemployed for most of the previous year, so she couldn’t blame him for making the decision to move away. They needed to have a serious talk about their relationship, however. She’d been putting it off too long.

  “Just come by yourself, or bring a friend,” Kim said. “It’ll be fun.”

  Helena’s idea of fun was watching movies or reading on the couch. Kim was sweet to ask, and Helena had no other plans, but she hesitated to say yes.

  Kim didn’t seem bothered by Helena’s nonresponse. “The cows are restless today,” Kim said, changing the subject.

  Helena took a closer look inside the barn. Kim stood on the opposite end of the stalls, behind a protective yellow line. The elephants could extend their powerful trunks through the bars like an arm, and were capable of delivering a powerful blow, so the keepers had to stay alert.

  Helena noted that all of the animals had backed away from the feeding troughs, leaving half of the hay uneaten. The females hovered near Mbali, the baby of the group. Elephants often made low-frequency sounds that human beings couldn’t hear. Helena could feel the vibrations in her chest, like the phantom twang of a bass guitar string. The animals also used body language to communicate.

  While she watched, the matriarch curled her trunk into an S shape and stuck out her ears—a clear sign of distress.

  Helena was about to slip through the gate and join Kim on the other side when a strange rumble came out of nowhere. It wasn’t an animal vocalization, rolling thunder, or a new jungle rhythm on the loudspeakers. The noise reminded her of a huge semi-truck rattling down the freeway. But they couldn’t hear that kind of traffic from inside the park. The low thrum grew into a dull roar, closing in fast. Several elephants trumpeted shrilly, adding to the chaos. Helena retreated a few steps on instinct.

  Before she could brace herself, the ground bucked beneath her feet. She flew up in the air and came down hard on her stomach, slapped with a mouthful of dirt.

  Oh, God. Earthquake.

  Helena scrabbled for purchase and found none. She felt as if she’d been thrown from a speeding vehicle—or worse, tossed from an airplane. The loss of control over her body and surroundings was terrifying. She bounced across the flat, dry surface, tasting grit and grasping at pebbles. Her knees and elbows slammed against the ground. This was a major quake, no ordinary tremor.

  She’d been living in California for most of her life and she’d never experienced anything like this. Dust filled her eyes and nose, choking her. A refrigerator-sized boulder near the wading pond broke loose and tumbled into the water with a terrific crash.

  As she struggled to orient herself, Helena recognized a larger problem than the beating she was taking. The elephants were in a state of panic. Trumpeting in high-pitched blasts, they bumped into and climbed over each other. All of the animals managed to stay upright, but the real danger was underfoot. They were going to trample the calf.

  Helena rolled onto her back and reached for her utility belt. She had a remote control for the hydraulic gate. If she opened it and released the elephants from the barn into the main enclosure, they might trample her.

  Mbali made a sound she’d never heard before, a sharp cry of pain. Tears sprung into Helena’s eyes. She’d witnessed the baby elephant’s birth about a year ago. There was no other animal in the park she was more attached to.

  Before she could rethink her decision, she pressed the button on the remote and held it down for five seconds, clenching her jaw from the effort.

  Then the elephants were free.

  Roaring, they fled the barn. Their massive feet pounded across the space, frighteningly close to Helena’s prone form. She was tall for a woman, long and lean and not the least bit delicate. But she felt tiny in that moment, cowering on the unsteady ground as beasts that weighed ten thousand pounds stormed past.

  Helena curled up on her side and tucked her arms around her head. She had no illusions about the animals she loved, no fantasies of being swept onto their backs and carried to safety. It was more likely that they would crush her without missing a step, or attack her in confusion.

  None of the above happened. The elephants ran into the yard, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. She stayed in the fetal position, shivering like a fresh-hatched lorikeet, until the tremors ceased.

  A voice on her radio broke the silence. “Code three, lion enclosure.”

  She lifted her head in dismay. It was Greg Patel, her boss, and the head lionkeeper. A code three meant a compromised structure. Code one was an animal escape, the highest alert. Code two signified employee down.

  Helena scrambled to her feet, wiping a mixture of blood and dirt from her mouth. She didn’t feel any broken bones. Her elbows were scraped, her teeth aching. Kim was lying on the cement floor in the keeper area of the barn. Her eyes were closed, blonde hair streaked with red. Mbali was on the other side of the feeding troughs, motionless.

  With a trembling hand, Helena grabbed her radio. “Code two,” she said into the receiver. “Elephant enclosure.”

  She had no idea which problem to tackle first. Kim was hurt. So was Mbali. Greg needed help with the lion enclosure, which was only a few hundred yards away. The keeper area of the elephant barn was open and unprotected.

  If the African lions got out—God help them all.

  While Helena waited for instructions, the radio blew up with other emergencies. There were damages throughout the park. Many animals had escaped their enclosures. The lead herpetologist called in a code three for the entire reptile house.

  It was mayhem.

  She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on safety procedures. Although she was trained to use a tranquilizer gun and a rifle, the weapons were locked in the director’s office at the front of the park. Unarmed, she wasn’t prepared to approach the lion exhibit. If she couldn’t provide direct assistance, she was supposed to take shelter, along with any other employees and visitors in the area. Helena couldn’t leave her fallen coworker behind, however. She wouldn’t abandon Mbali, either.

  Squaring her shoulders, Helena walked toward the elephant barn. The bars were wide enough for her to slip through. As she crouched on the concrete floor next to Kim, more trumpeting and distress calls echoed across the yard. The ground rumbled beneath her feet.

  Aftershock.

  Helena threw her arms around Kim, cradling her head to protect her from further injury. This jolt felt just as powerful as the first. The jarring motions seemed to threaten the barn’s foundation, even though it was built to withstand ten tons of elephant rage.

  She could only imagine what was happening in other parts of the city. In small homes and apartment complexes. The historic buildings downtown.

  Freeways. Bridges. Hospitals. Jesus.

  Helena pictured the happy families who visited the zoo every day. The mothers with strollers and the handsome dads. Dead. She smothered a sob at the thought. She was glad her mother had moved to Oregon. Helena didn’t have any close relatives in San Diego, but her best friend lived here. Helena hoped Gwen was okay.

  When the shaking stopped, she blinke
d the dust and tears from her eyes. Kim was like a rag doll in her arms. Mbali hadn’t moved. Helena was struck by a memory of riding in a small-engine plane as a child. Her father had been in the pilot’s seat, her mother at her side. She’d been frozen with fear, almost catatonic.

  It had been the most terrifying moment of her life. Until now.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, praying for her friends and coworkers. For every animal inside the park, including Mbali. For complete strangers.

  After a moment, the radio began to buzz with keepers checking in. Josh Garrison was managing the communication between employees. His requests for more information from Greg had gone unanswered. Josh sounded as relaxed as ever, exchanging emergency information in the same tone he used to shoot the breeze. Even a devastating earthquake couldn’t harsh his mellow.

  “Helena, come in,” he said.

  Sniffling, she reached for her radio. “I’m here.”

  “What’s your status, elephant lady?”

  He liked to call her silly nicknames. Mount Saint Helena was another one. She felt a twinge of pique, which was more bearable than sorrow. “Kim is unconscious,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “Her head is bleeding.”

  “Is she breathing?”

  Helena watched the rise and fall of Kim’s chest. “Yes.”

  “Scalp wounds bleed a lot.”

  That was true. Helena couldn’t tell if Kim had any other injuries.

  “Are you putting pressure on it?” Josh asked.

  “No.”

  “Good girl. If you can find a clean towel, hold it over the wound, very gently. I’m on my way to get you.”

  Tears pricked her eyes again—this time, from relief.

  “Have you heard from Greg, by chance?” he asked.

  “No,” she choked out.

  “Don’t go looking for him. Just stay put.”

  She agreed not to and signed off, lowering the radio. Her mouth felt bruised, her knees ached and there were tiny pebbles embedded in the flesh of her palms. These minor injuries throbbed like a distant heartbeat. It was almost as if her body belonged to someone else. She felt numb and disconnected, even lethargic.