Wild (18 page)

She grabbed the big cat by the scruff like a kitten. Josh lowered the rifle and crouched down to take the other end. Tau didn’t object to their clumsy efforts. When the lion was in the middle of the blanket, tongue lolling out, Josh lifted his side. Helena backed into the crate, crab-walking. It wasn’t easy to move four hundred pounds of solid muscle, but she was a very strong woman, and he was no slouch. They managed, inch by inch.

Every second felt like an eternity. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and his ears were attuned to the slightest sound. He hoped Zuma wasn’t watching them, waiting for another opportunity to strike.

By the time they were done, he was sweating buckets again. Josh did a clockwork sweep of the area while Helena pulled the burlap free from Tau and crawled out of the crate. She secured the front gate with a padlock.

Josh was ready to hightail it back to the truck, but Helena had other ideas. “Let’s go check on Greg.”

“What?”

“I need to know,” she said quietly. “Maybe we can drag him to shelter. I can’t stand the thought of Bambang getting to him.”

Josh swore under his breath. He knew Komodo dragons ate carrion.

“At the very least, we can cover him up. Please.”

“Fine,” he said, against his better judgment. He’d never been able to say no to women, and this one was his special kryptonite.

They hurried toward the lion enclosure. Josh went first, rifle raised. Helena followed close behind, staying right on his six. They found Greg facedown on the ground, just outside the barrier wall. A section of the wall had crumbled, leaving a wide crack. The keeper had probably been trying to block the escape route when Zuma attacked.

Josh didn’t see any sign of the lioness, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hiding nearby. There was a storage shed about twenty feet from the crumbled wall. Helena approached the shed, opening the door to check the interior. Her nod indicated it was clear. They crept toward Greg, moving with caution.

Helena laid the blanket on the ground next to him. With Josh’s help, she rolled Greg over. The lion keeper was definitely dead. His skin was gray, dark eyes foggy. There was a circle of dried blood underneath him. Flies crawled in and out of his open mouth.

There was no time for shock, or grief, or even a respectful silence. They dragged Greg the same way they’d dragged Tau. His weight was easier to handle. When they reached the storage shed, she covered his body with the burlap.

Josh stood outside the door, rifle poised.

“Should we pray?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not religious.”

“Neither am I.”

She said something that sounded like “fray-oo” and rose to her feet.

“What does that mean?”

“Peace.”

She shut the door and they walked back to the truck, eyes peeled for Zuma. Josh didn’t relax until they were inside the vehicle again, safe and sound. He hesitated before starting the engine. Helena wasn’t big on sharing feelings, but she looked choked up, and for good reason. Greg had been her immediate supervisor. Maybe even a father figure.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

She rubbed her cheek against her shoulder. “About what?”

He didn’t press. He’d done enough of that earlier. She needed someone to do it, to push back at her and engage her emotions. Josh recognized that, even if she didn’t. But a lot of people needed things he couldn’t give them. His niece needed a better father. Josh couldn’t force Lyle to get his act together, and he couldn’t make Helena to open up to him.

It wasn’t his place.

Saying nothing, he did a three-point turnaround and headed back to the front of the park. They hadn’t gone far when she touched his arm.

“Stop here,” she said. “Just for a minute.”

He parked next to the fence to the elephant enclosure, aware that she wanted to check on the herd. They were in an open area at least a hundred yards from the lion enclosure.

Josh figured it was safe enough, as long as they stayed close to the truck, so he didn’t protest when she climbed out. He just followed her.

The fence was made of sturdy blonde wood, smooth and polished. The posts were gripped by thousands of hands every day. Beyond this fence lay electric wires, currently not charged, and a dry moat. Both kept elephants in and humans out. Even the keepers had very little contact with the animals. The wildlife park wasn’t a circus. The elephants didn’t perform tricks for an audience or give rides to children.

The herd looked happy enough, though. They had a whole pond full of water, and some leftover hay. He followed Helena’s gaze to Mbali, the herd’s most recent addition. Josh had to admit, baby elephants were cute.

“Mbali’s getting big,” he said. “How old is she now?”

“Fourteen months.”

“Do you ever wish you could get closer to them?”

“I get close to trim their feet,” she said. “Sometimes they reach out with their trunks and touch my hand.”

“But the bars are always there.”

“Yes.”

“Why is that?”

“Because they kill people. More keepers have been killed by elephants than by any other wild animal.”

“Even lions?”

“Lions, tigers and bears combined.”

He hadn’t known that. “They look so gentle.”

“They are, most of the time. But it only takes once. They’re like great white sharks. An exploratory bite is often fatal. Same with a careless swing of the trunk.”

Glancing around for Zuma, he pondered her words. As friendly as the elephants appeared, he wasn’t eager to climb into their enclosure. But he surfed in the Pacific Ocean with sharks almost every day. He just couldn’t
see
them.

“They kill on purpose, too,” she said. “They’re temperamental.”

“In the wild, or in captivity?”

“Both. Anyone in close contact is at risk. They need space to roam and distance from people. Greg always taught us not to project our emotions onto them or build unhealthy attachments. Too much human interference is damaging for animals. It can create a whole slew of problems, including species confusion. There are documented cases of chimps that seem to think they’re people and won’t take mates.”

“Really?”

She nodded, still staring at Mbali. “And when you treat them like family members instead of wild animals, you stop believing they’re capable of crushing you.”

This pragmatic approach wasn’t an unusual attitude for a keeper, in his experience. Helena wasn’t a “bunny hugger,” to borrow Louis’s term. And yet, Josh still found it sad. He could see very clearly that she loved these elephants. Maybe it was foolish to imagine that they returned her feelings.

As if on cue, Mbali noticed Helena standing there. She trumpeted in greeting, running closer to the fence line. She raced back and forth, her trunk curled up jauntily. Then she scampered back to her mother.

Helena’s face crumpled at the display. She pressed the back of her hand to her nose. So much for maintaining an emotional distance.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a bunny hugger,” Josh said.

She shook her head in denial.

“A deeply closeted bunny hugger.”

“It’s professional pride,” she insisted, blinking the tears away. “Successful elephant births are rare in captivity.”

“Why is that?”

“The mating process is difficult, for one.”

“I’ll bet. I’ve seen Obi’s penis.”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “Males don’t actually penetrate the female during sex.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. The vaginal opening is too small, and it’s kind of hard to get to.”

“How do they mate, then?”

“There’s a lot of rubbing and mounting involved. Then he sprays semen into her, like a fire hose.”

He shook his head in wonder. “Wow.”

“It can take years to conceive. The gestation period is long and the birth has to be carefully monitored. Sometimes mother elephants panic and trample their young. Calves have a high mortality rate.” Her expression grew troubled. “The first few months were very stressful. I was here around the clock.”

“I remember.”

She glanced at him in surprise. He’d always watched her from afar. He noticed when she was having a hard time. She’d lost weight after Mbali was born. He’d wondered if there was something going on in her personal life.

Her gaze became shuttered. “We should go.”

They drove back to the front of the park and entered the staff building in silence. It was past noon. Despite the disturbing events of the morning, he was hungry. “Have a seat,” he said. “I’ll forage for food.”

She sank into a chair, burying her head in her hands.

He visited the men’s room and washed up with bottled water. There were stocked vending machines all over the park, so they wouldn’t run out of food or drinks. Instead of relying on snacks, he searched the kitchen for a real meal. He found some apples and several cans of tuna in oil. Grabbing both, along with a couple of forks, he returned to Helena. She glanced up when he set the items in front of her.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

She regarded the food without much interest.

“Do you want a soda?”

“No.”

There was already water on the table. He took a seat and opened a bottle, drinking in thirsty gulps. She murmured something about the restroom and walked down the hall.

Josh popped open one of the cans of tuna and dug in. It was bland, but edible. He alternated between forkfuls and crisp bites of apple.

When Helena came back and sat down again, she seemed distant. She opened a can and chewed methodically. He pictured the way she’d looked at the elephant yard, her eyes vibrant. She had a different energy with animals. She’d always been passionate about her work, whether she was assisting a birth or describing the mechanics of pachyderm sex. Now she was quiet and withdrawn, avoiding his gaze.

He figured that she was uncomfortable for several reasons. Greg’s death. The close call on the Skylift. Their tawdry make-out session. He couldn’t help with the first two, but maybe he could put her mind at ease about the last.

“You don’t have to worry about me making a move on you,” he said, finishing his apple. “I can control myself.”

Her mouth twisted at those words. He hadn’t meant to offend her by suggesting that
she
was out of control. Sure, she’d lost her grip for a moment. It had been the most erotic moment of his life, and he’d participated with relish, so who was he to judge? He loved the fact that she’d gotten carried away. She should get carried away more often.

He drummed his fingertips against the edge of the table. “I won’t touch you again. Unless you ask me to.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“I won’t tell anyone what happened, either.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” she said, eyes flashing.

Her capacity for denial was astonishing. Strong woman, strong delusions. “Is Mitch coming back?”

She tilted the can of tuna to search its contents. It was empty.

He hoped she wasn’t thinking about leaving. This job was her entire world. After what he’d seen between her and Mbali, relocation would be a heartbreaking option. “When you get tired of waiting for him, I’ll be here.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Aren’t there any more tourists or college girls you can sleep with?”

“I’m sure there are a few.”

She gave him a pointed glance.

“Maybe I’m ready to settle down.”

“You’re just bored with easy pickings,” she said. “Women fall at your feet, so you’re chasing after the ones you can’t have.”

“The hell I am.”

“Melody?”

“I didn’t chase after Melody.”

She took a sip of water, shrugging. “Whatever you say.”

Josh tamped down his annoyance. He knew what she was doing. She didn’t like showing emotions or needing anyone. She was afraid of letting him in. “I’m not chasing after you, either. Didn’t I say I’d back off?”

“You issued an open invitation for sex in the same breath.”

He conceded her point. He should’ve quit while he was ahead. “I was trying to tell you how I felt. It’s called sharing.”

“Well, cut it out.”

The pricklier she got, the more he wanted to strip down her defenses. He liked sparring with her, and he could imagine how good it would feel to explore that energy in bed. Maybe she was right about him being bored.
Unfulfilled
was a better word.

Women didn’t fall at his feet, however. Not the ones he went for. He preferred sober, self-aware partners. He enjoyed giving pleasure as much as receiving it. Anyone worth doing was worth doing right. That was his motto. And it wasn’t as if he’d taken home a different girl every night. He’d dated some for weeks or months at a time.

Obviously, none of those relationships had stuck. If the perfect woman had come along, he’d have moved heaven and earth to keep her.

“Have you always wanted to work with animals?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Pretty much.”

“Since when?”

“Childhood.”

“Did you have a lot of pets?”

“Not really,” she said, picking up an apple. “My mom worked on a small farm a few miles east of the city, and we lived there for a few years after my dad died. There were goats and cows and barn cats with kittens.”

“And they were your friends,” he mused.

She took a bite of apple, not responding.

He figured that a little girl who got teased for her funny accent and serious face might feel more at home with a group of animals than a pack of kids. Josh could relate. He’d been clumsy and skinny in high school. Humor had been his crutch. “You said you’re more comfortable with them.”

“I am.”

“Because they’re better listeners?”

“And they don’t require responses.”

He laughed at this, aware that she was getting annoyed with his questions. They didn’t have to talk, as far as he was concerned. He wouldn’t mind chilling out here in the staff area for the rest of the afternoon. They could grill a few steaks later. It was a hell of lot better than trying to capture wild animals.

That reminded him of something. “I saw a hyena outside the fence line.”

She paused, midchew. “Where?”