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 blinked 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.
Forcing herself to focus, she reached into a nearby drawer for a clean washcloth. Kim had a nasty cut on her forehead, along with a lump the size of a golf ball. Helena pressed the cloth to Kim’s temple and glanced around warily for a better place to take shelter. Kim was a small woman. Helena could stash her in the cabinets if she had to.
There were two African lions in the zoo, a mated pair. They were both mature adults, healthy and strong. The male weighed about four hundred pounds, but the female was twice as aggressive. Zuma had been born in a game park in Namibia. She was perfectly capable of stalking and killing prey.
Helena was about to drag Kim across the floor when she opened her eyes. Her pupils looked strange, one larger than the other.
“What happened?” she asked.
“An earthquake.”
Kim moistened her lips and frowned. “My head hurts.”
“You bumped it.”
“I should get up.”
Helena kept a firm hand on her shoulder. “Let’s wait for Josh. He’s coming right now, and he’ll take you somewhere safe.”
“How bad is it?”
“You’ll be fine.”
“I mean…the park.”
“It’s bad,” Helena said, surveying the space between the elephant barn and the path to the lion enclosure. She saw no movement, heard no vocalizations. She didn’t tell Kim that any animals had escaped.
Mbali’s mother came back to the barn for her injured calf. In the chaos, the herd had run away without her. Now Stani touched her trunk to Mbali’s slack ears and mouth, as if trying to rouse her baby. Though temperamental, elephants were caring, compassionate creatures. The love between mother and child was obvious.
Helena studied the pair through the iron bars that separated them, touched by the scene. Mbali appeared unconscious, rather than dead. Helena wanted to examine the calf, but she doubted that the protective mother would allow Helena to enter their space.
After several more nudges from her mama, the little elephant awakened. She ambled upright, swaying. Stani curled her trunk around the calf protectively. As soon as Mbali gained her bearings, she scampered off, seeking the comfort of the herd. Stani followed close behind, touching the calf’s twitching tail with her trunk.
Helena’s chest swelled with emotion as she watched them cross the yard. Mbali was her favorite elephant and Helena couldn’t stand the thought of losing her.
“I have to call Steven,” Kim said suddenly, grasping Helena’s hand.
“Where is he?”
“At our apartment.”
Zoo employees communicated by radio only. They were required to leave their cell phones in lockers. Even if the lines were clear, they couldn’t call anyone until they returned to the staff buildings.
“You’re so lucky Mitch is in Denver,” Kim said.
Helena realized, with some chagrin, that she hadn’t spared a single thought for him. She’d worried about her friends and coworkers. The animals, of course. Her boss. She’d shed tears over total strangers, and been thankful her mother was in Oregon.
Mitch? Nothing.
In her defense, she’d been distracted, and Mitch was probably fine. Even so, she felt particular no urge to call him now. The distance hadn’t made her heart grow fonder.
She’d wondered, more than once, if there was something missing inside her. An empty space or short circuit that prevented her from connecting with others. She’d always been reserved with her affections—toward humans, at least. Animals were easier. Safer, in a way. Their needs weren’t as difficult to interpret.
“I’ll try the front office,” Helena said, picking up her radio. Maybe one of their coworkers could get in touch with Kim’s husband. It was security’s job to communicate with local police and request emergency services. Helena figured Josh had his hands full, along with every other first responder in the city. Kim might not be able to get medical treatment for hours. Before Helena pressed the button to speak, she heard Greg’s voice.
Her spirits lifted. He was alive!
“Code two,” Greg said, panting. “Lion enclosure.”
Oh, no. He was injured, perhaps badly.
“I’ve been trying to block the exit—”
A low growl erupted in the background. It was the sound a lion made before charging. Sometimes they rushed forward as a warning and stopped short.
This was not one of those times.
“Zuma, no!”
Greg’s stern shout was cut off abruptly. There was a heavy
thump
, followed by a strange gurgling noise. It sounded as if he’d been knocked down, but he hadn’t dropped his radio or let go of the talk button. Helena listened with horror as the lion chuffed air through its nose and continued to make throaty vocalizations.
Then a sinister silence fell.
CHAPTER TWO
H
ELENA EXCHANGED A
horrified glance with Kim.
They both knew how lions killed prey. The first strike was quick and brutal, often crushing the spinal cord.
Helena touched the button on her receiver. “Greg?”
No response.
“Greg, come in!”
Nothing.
Kim’s pretty face crumpled with distress. Greg was in serious trouble, and there was nothing they could do to help him. Helena felt useless and out of control, sick with worry. She stared at the radio in her hand, gripping it until her knuckles went white. She was frozen, struck by the strange urge to throw the device against the wall.
The sound of Josh’s approaching golf cart broke through her paralysis. His driving was fast and erratic, but for good reason. She rose to her feet, her blood pumping with adrenaline. She spotted a hoof knife hanging on the wall. It was a sturdy tool with a long handle and a curved blade. Grabbing the knife, she strode out of the barn. Although Kim called her name, Helena didn’t look back.
Josh parked the golf cart as close to the barn as possible. He exited the vehicle, his gaze narrowing on the impromptu weapon in her hand.
“Take me to the lion enclosure,” she said.
“No.”
She sputtered at his refusal. “Greg needs help.”
“You can’t help him.”
Helena couldn’t believe Josh wanted to follow the rules
now
, when a man was bleeding to death nearby. She dismissed him and continued toward the walkway. It was only a few hundred yards to the lion enclosure.
Josh had the nerve to jump in front of her, blocking her path. “Helena—”
“Step aside.”
He surprised her by standing his ground. Although he wasn’t armed, he carried pepper spray and a baton on his utility belt. He also had the distinction of being tall and well-built. There were some hard muscles beneath his official-looking uniform shirt. But he was just Josh Garrison, glorified security guard. She gave his chest a rude shove.
This move didn’t faze him. Instead of stumbling back and letting her pass, he locked his big hands around her upper arms, holding her captive. When she tried to jerk free of his grasp, he tightened his grip.
Helena hadn’t expected him to challenge her. She wasn’t quite his size, but she was a physically imposing woman. She’d played basketball on the boys’ varsity team in high school. To put it bluntly, she was a brute. Men rarely messed with her. And if there was one thing she knew how to do, it was push people away.
“You can’t fight off a lion with a knife,” he said, shaking her. “We need guns.”
“He’ll die before then!”
“He’s already dead.”
This awful probability gave her pause. She pictured Greg Patel’s broken neck, his severed carotid artery. In the vast majority of lion attacks, death was instantaneous.
“He has kids,” she whispered, her urgency fading into sorrow.
Josh’s grip on her upper arms softened. Now his touch felt comforting, rather than cruel. She stared at his unmarred throat. It looked smooth and suntanned and unfairly healthy. A beat pulsed in his neck, proof of life.
Swallowing back tears, she lifted her gaze to his face. He was handsome in a gypsy-wanderer sort of way. His hair was tawny brown, long enough to curl at the edge of his collar. He had good bone structure and strong features. Lucky genetics, basically. His eyes were a warm gold color, framed by thick, dark lashes.
“Let’s get Kim back to the staff building,” he said. “Then we can see about Greg.”
When she nodded, he released her. Going straight to the lion enclosure would have been foolish. Lions could protect a kill for hours. She needed tranquilizer guns from the weapons cabinet, and an organized team.
She followed him into the keeper area, her heart hammering in her chest. She felt so lost and confused, as if her entire world had been turned upside down. How else could she explain the fact that Josh Garrison was talking sense into her?
Inside the barn, he kneeled down beside Kim, brushing a tendril of hair off her forehead. “This is quite a goose egg. You smuggling the Hope Diamond under here?”
Kim hissed as he examined the tender lump. “I wish.”
“How are your ears?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“Nosebleed?”
Kim looked at Helena, uncertain.
“No,” Helena said.