Wild Page 11

  “Unless help arrives by then,” he said, optimistic.

  “Have you heard from anyone?”

  “No,” he said, checking his cell phone. “I’m not sure texts are going through anymore. I’ve had no bars since the third aftershock.”

  The park radios didn’t have their usual range, either. The emergency channel that connected them to local authorities had been down all day. Helena imagined that cell phone towers and signal stations were in shambles.

  “Where should we sleep?”

  She glanced around the staff building. The wildlife park didn’t encourage lounging, so no cozy couches or comfortable chairs graced the break room. The floor wasn’t carpeted. “The hospital has a couple of fold-out cots,” she said. “Sometimes keepers stay overnight in the intensive care unit.”

  “As long as I don’t wake up with a cobra coiled next to me.”

  She rubbed her eyes, smiling wryly. “Snakes are attracted to heat sources.”

  “Don’t tell me that. I’ll think about it all night.”

  So would she. “It’s almost nine,” she said, glancing at her watch.

  “I’m ready when you are.”

  She’d forgotten his habit of surfing before work; he’d probably been up since dawn. She gathered a bottle of water and the lantern. He brought the rifle, even though the hospital was in an adjoining building. They walked down the hall together and entered the ICU.

  The hospital had sustained minor damage. There were no newborn babies or critical patients at the moment, so the cages were empty. Fluorescent lights and some panels had fallen from the ceiling. Josh cleared the heavy debris while Helena swept up the glass. When the floor was clear, she removed the folded cots from the closet.

  “Let’s set up in there,” Josh said, gesturing to a large animal run. It was made of finely grated aluminum that no snake could slither through.

  Although the space was tight, she agreed. She might feel awkward about sleeping so close to Josh, but she doubted peaceful rest was in the cards. At least they didn’t have to worry about stray reptiles.

  She retrieved two wool blankets and two travel-sized pillows. The disposable pillowcases crinkled under her arm as she carried them back to Josh. He was already inside the cage, sitting on the edge of the cot.

  “You look like a convict,” she said, handing him the pillow and blanket.

  He accepted the items with a smile. His eyes were bloodshot, his brow still swollen. “You’re a prettier cellmate than I imagined.”

  She couldn’t help but smile back at him. “You want me to put a bandage on your head?”

  “Does it look bad?” he asked, touching the cut.

  “It doesn’t look good.”

  “Pamper me, if you must.”

  She went to the cabinets, which were in disarray. After she found a box of bandages and some alcohol wipes, she returned to his side. Sitting next to him, she tore open the square package and removed the moist wipe. He winced as she cleaned the area gingerly. Then she applied a single bandage.

  “There,” she said, smoothing the adhesive strips. When his gaze tangled with hers, she realized how close she’d gotten. Her lips were inches from his jaw, and her right breast was pressed against his shoulder. She lowered her arms and scooted back, flushing.

  “Thanks,” he said simply.

  She studied him for a long moment. He looked the same as always, if a little roughed up. Handsome face, tawny hair, warm brown eyes. He had the relaxed attitude and tanned complexion of an avid surfer. His skin was more weathered than she’d realized, and there were other qualities she hadn’t seen before. Hints of maturity and intelligence.

  He wasn’t so evolved that he wouldn’t dance with Trent’s girlfriend on a lark, or describe Trent’s contraceptive blunder as “laying it down.” But he had a sense of honor, along with a penchant for mischief. He was a good man to have around.

  She put away the bandages and stretched out on her bunk, willing her heart to stop racing. He made her feel alive.

  No, scratch that.

  The situation made her feel alive. They weren’t soul mates. They were just…cellmates. Trapped in a zoo like animals, forced to bond and coexist.

  He turned off the lantern to save batteries, casting them into darkness. She closed her eyes and thought of Mitch.

  Last year, their relationship had hit a rough spot. Around the same time, he’d lost his job at the engineering company. His education level and experience made it difficult for him to find suitable work. The months dragged on and his self-esteem plummeted. He’d become frustrated and withdrawn.

  When he landed the new position, she’d been happy for him. And for herself, if she was being honest.

  She hadn’t asked him not to leave. He hadn’t asked her to come along. Neither of them wanted to talk about calling it quits. They’d been together for six years, and they still had feelings for each other. It was hard to let go.

  Just as she was drifting off, another aftershock struck. She reached out on instinct, grasping for Josh in the dark. His hand met hers, strong and secure. Their fingers linked together and held.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  JOSH WOKE AT DAWN, his cock hard and his pulse racing.

  In his dreams, Helena had stripped naked and climbed on top of him. It was dark inside the animal cage, so he could barely make out the details of her body. She had some kind of markings or tattoos, like cheetah spots. It was bizarre.

  Not so bizarre that it wasn’t hot, of course. As she’d writhed against him, his hands had itched to touch her decorated skin, to cup her breasts and grip her curvy hips. But when he’d tried to lift his arms, he realized he was tied down. He pulled against the bonds in annoyance, and they’d constricted tightly.

  It was a cobra. He’d had a fucking cobra wrapped around his wrist. The snake sank its fangs into the fleshy pad of his thumb.

  He inhaled a sharp breath, jerking his hand toward his body. It was tingling from lack of circulation, not neurotoxic venom. He’d fallen asleep with his arm outstretched, fingers entwined with Helena’s. She must have let go in the middle of the night. Now she was lying on her side with her back to him.

  Straightening abruptly, he pumped his fist a few times to get the blood going.

  He didn’t want to offend Helena with the sight of his raging hard-on, so he got up and left the cage, carrying his boots in one hand.

  Twenty minutes later, he had his arousal under control. He’d retrieved one of the generators from the storage yard and wheeled it into the employee lounge. He’d plugged in his cell phone charger, along with the radio port and the microwave. When Helena shuffled in, he was listening to the news. She looked sleep-rumpled and vulnerable. Not at all like the feral creature from his sex dream.

  He pondered the Morticia Addams comparison. She had the same dramatic coloring, cool attitude and statuesque figure. She’d always reminded him of another character, however. His comic-book fantasy, the object of his geeky teenage affections, the ultimate superheroine: Wonder Woman.

  She definitely resembled the female icon. Tall, strong, black hair, blue eyes. She had a take-charge attitude. He pictured her with her hands on her hips, chin high. Ready to save the world and stomp some ass.

  “Good morning,” he said, smiling.

  She made a zombie noise and continued down the hall, toward the restrooms. Clearly not a cheerful riser. Shrugging, he heated up some water in a foam cup. He hadn’t been able to find sugar or creamer, so he drank his instant coffee black. When she returned to the table, she did the same. They ate granola bars in silence.

  “I could go for some bacon and eggs,” he said.

  She nodded her agreement, seeming more awake now. “When you mentioned raw meat last night, I thought you wanted to grill.”

  “Is there a grill?”

  “The director keeps one behind the clubhouse.”

  He pictured the two of them sitting at a romantic table, eating steaks by candlelight. It would be almost li
ke a date. A date in an abandoned zoo. After a devastating natural disaster. With a woman who hated him.

  Well, maybe hate was too strong a word. She’d warmed up to him over the past twenty-four hours. They’d hugged and held hands. Last night, when she’d bandaged his forehead, he’d sensed that the attraction between them wasn’t one-sided. What she felt for him might not be affection, but it wasn’t hate. Not by a long shot.

  After breakfast, she rifled through the mess of personal items on the floor of the locker area. She found a hairbrush and some toothpaste. Although he didn’t bother with the brush, he cleaned his teeth in the men’s room, rinsing with a mouthful of bottled water. He also took off his shirt and splashed his armpits. Despite being stranded at the zoo, there was no reason for him to smell like an animal.

  Refreshed, if not exactly fresh, he put his shirt back on and joined Helena in the staffroom. Her hair was tidy now. She never wore makeup, as far as he could tell. Her lips weren’t lush or color-rich, but he liked the shape of them.

  He liked the subtle curve of her mouth, the only hint of softness in her face.

  Their first stop was the kitchen, which was on the other side of the animal hospital. Josh brought the rifle with him as they toured the pantry. Many of the animals ate something called browse, leaves and twigs. Others subsisted on hay and dry pellets. But there was also a staggering amount of fresh produce required, along with perishable meats and fish. Some of the stock had already gone bad.

  Helena removed a slab of meat from the freezer. It must have weighed thirty pounds, but she didn’t have any trouble. “We should stick a hook in this and dangle it from the tram. That way the lions can’t drag it away before you get the chance to dart them.”

  “Good idea,” he said, inspecting the rest of the meat in the freezer. Most of it was still frozen solid. If they wanted steaks, they could have them.

  There was also a mountain of vegetables in the pantry bins, and bananas for days. Helena grabbed one for herself and tossed him another. After they located a meat hook and a rope, they went back to the staff area. She carried the meat in a metal tray. He followed close behind, keeping an eye out for cobras.

  Before setting out, he checked his cell phone. There was no internet access and no new messages. The handheld radio’s emergency channel was still dead. Pocketing the phone, he attached a fully charged radio to his belt, just in case. The Spanish-language station repeated the same information as last night: head east to evacuation centers, be careful, avoid fires.

  He said a quick prayer for Chloe and Emma.

  The generator was too heavy to lift into the pickup, so they walked to the loading dock, rolling it along. Visitors could board the tram at the front of the park and ride it to the opposite end, or vice versa. The main dock was near the remains of the reptile house. After they arrived, Josh initiated the bypass system, and the controls lit up with life.

  Victory.

  Helena high-fived him with a smile. He climbed into the tram car with the tranquilizer gun and the bait. She made sure the hook was secure and gave him some extra darts. They went over the plan again. Then it was go time.

  As she stepped away from the car and approached the control panel, he grew anxious. They should be heading east, like the radio recommended. He doubted that Helena would leave the zoo willingly, however. She was captain of this ship. The damned place could be on fire and she’d stay here, throwing buckets of water on elephants.

  Even so, they’d decided on a very aggressive strategy. He’d rather stay in the staff area all day, playing cards and grilling steaks. It would be a hell of a lot safer. He hadn’t thought about the fact that she’d be out here in the open next to the destroyed reptile house. His hand tingled from the phantom cobra bite. He had a bad feeling.

  He didn’t like bad feelings.

  Instead of voicing his reservations, he swallowed them. Intuition told him that she wouldn’t listen, and she’d brought the rifle with her. The loading dock was protected on three sides, so she only had to watch the front.

  “Be careful,” he said, his throat tight.

  She hit the button with the heel of her palm.

  He rode the tram about halfway across the park, noting that the fires had spread. The smoke was worse than yesterday. Entire neighborhoods were smoldering, and the flames at the coast were sky-high. There were helicopters in the distance today. He didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. They needed boots on the ground. Dropping in rescue workers by air was dangerous, not to mention inefficient. But maybe that was the only option when the freeways were damaged and the sea was ablaze.

  Christ.

  When Heart of Africa came into view, Josh grabbed his radio. “Almost there,” he said, waiting until his car was above the road. “Okay, pull the stop.”

  The tram shuddered to a halt.

  He couldn’t see the lion enclosure from this vantage point, but it was the best location to drop the bait. There was an open stretch of asphalt, without leafy ground cover or heavy trees blocking his shot.

  One end of the rope was tied to the safety bar. The other was attached to the plastic hook lodged inside the side of beef. He lowered it carefully over the side. Before it reached the ground, he swung the rope like a pendulum. He deposited the meat in the open area, rather than directly underneath him.

  The stage had been set. Now he aimed the tranquilizer gun and waited. It felt like second nature. He’d spent so many hours in this stance. Uneventful hours. Harrowing hours. The first time he’d been called on to actually pull the trigger, he’d hesitated. That split second had cost the life of one of his crew members.

  Helena’s voice broke the silence. “Anything?”

  “Nope,” he said into his receiver.

  “Keep me posted.”

  He replayed a thread of yesterday’s conversation. Sitting in a tram car against the backdrop of a devastated city, ready to shoot a lion…it was a fitting occasion to think about fear. “You asked me if something happened to me in deep water, like a near-drowning.”

  “So?”

  “I was just wondering if you had a bad experience with heights.”

  No response.

  “Might help to talk about it.”

  “Okay, Dr. Phil.”

  He laughed softly at her caustic tone. “Scared?”

  The goading worked. “I got sick on the way here from Iceland. I don’t remember being afraid, but it was a long, uncomfortable flight.”

  “What else?” he asked, sensing there was more to the story.

  She sighed into the receiver. “My dad was a stunt pilot.”

  He hadn’t been expecting that. “Really.”

  “About a week after we arrived, my mother and I went to see his show. It was a combination of things, I guess. Getting airsick. Not understanding the language. Then watching the planes spinning through the sky…”

  “Was there a crash?”

  “No, but I never got over the fear of one. He took me up in his Cessna once, hoping that would help. It didn’t. I was terrified until we landed.” She paused for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts. “Every time he left for work, I begged him not to go. I was convinced that he wouldn’t come back.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He was killed in a drunk driving accident,” she said, her voice hard. “Funny how I worried about the wrong thing.”

  He didn’t think it was funny at all. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry you asked?”

  “Sorry he died.”

  “Yeah, well. I hardly knew him.”

  His chest twisted at the obvious lie. She might have convinced herself this was true, but no little girl begged a stranger not to leave her. Josh remembered her saying she’d been five when she met him, and eight when he died. Three years.

  He’d bonded with Emma in about three minutes. After three days, she had him wrapped around her finger.

  “Good thing we had this talk,” she said. “I’m cured.”

&
nbsp; He ignored the sarcasm. “It’s my magic ear,” he said. “Now you have to ask me something.”

  She was quiet for so long he thought she wasn’t going to bother. Finally she said, “Why did you join the navy?”

  “I always wanted to be in the special forces, and it seemed like a good deal. See the world, earn some college money.”

  “Did you see the world?”

  “I saw the inside of a ship.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “The Persian Gulf.”

  “How was it?”

  “Unpleasant, for the most part. The confinement was difficult and the work was backbreaking.”

  “What about college?”

  “What about it?”

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  “I did go. I took some classes before I joined the navy. Then I moved here and worked part-time until I graduated from the University of San Diego.”

  “You graduated?”

  “They gave me a diploma and everything.”

  “What field?”

  “Environmental studies.”

  “You have a bachelor’s degree in environmental studies?”

  “I do.”

  “Why are you working as a security officer?”

  She asked this question as if she thought a monkey could do his job. Maybe he wasn’t solving crimes or saving lives, but he knew how to handle himself in a fight and he did CPR on a regular basis. Half the calls he responded to were medical. It wasn’t all sunshine, short shorts and golf cart cruising. He’d applied at the wildlife park because he’d wanted to do something fun, after serving his country for five years. Something peaceful.

  Now he was armed and ready for ambush, surrounded by what looked more like Iraq than downtown San Diego. Pretty ironic.

  “It’s a great job,” he said. “Outdoor setting, interesting people.”

  “Beautiful women.”

  “Can’t argue that.”

  “Speaking of women, I haven’t seen you with anyone lately.”

  “Keeping tabs?”

  “Hardly.”

  Living with Emma and Chloe had curbed his dating habits, to some degree. He’d been surfing more and going out less. He was getting too old for the bar scene, anyway. “Maybe I’m in the market for a steady girlfriend.”