Wild by Jill Sorenson

impatient.
    “There’s nothing we can do.”
    He fell silent for moment. “I have another idea.”
    “What?”
    “I could mark my territory.”
    She smothered a laugh. “You want to pee on the pole?”
    “Why not?”
    “Because territorial instincts are triggered by competing members of the same species. Your urine won’t scare off a lion.”
    “Aren’t lions afraid of humans?”
    “Some are, but Zuma’s not threatened by the sight of you or even the guns. Peeing on the pole will only get it wet.”
    “Well, damn.”
    “Do you have to go?”
    “I can hold it.”
    Helena was thirsty, hungry and tired. The sun shone directly overhead, indicating it was near lunchtime. She felt light-headed and claustrophobic, in addition to acrophobic. She didn’t have to pee, though. Small favors.
    “I know,” he said. “I’ll rig a lasso with my belt and pull up the tranquilizer gun.”
    “Your belt isn’t long enough.”
    “I’ll attach it to a sock.”
    She glanced over her shoulder at him. “It’s not stiff enough, either.”
    He smiled at the unintentional double entendre, rubbing a hand over his jaw. The lump on his brow didn’t detract from his good looks. It just gave him a manlier edge, like the scraped knuckles.
    “You won’t be able to pick up the gun without wire or a hook,” she said. “Something prehensile, like a tail.”
    “Where are the flying monkeys when we need them?”
    She grimaced at the mention. The Wizard of Oz had terrified her as a child. Iceland wasn’t known for its gentle fairy tales, but she’d always been puzzled by the American affection for such a disturbing movie.
    “Not a fan of flying monkeys, I take it,” he said.
    “No.”
    He took his cell phone out of his pocket. “Do you want to text someone?”
    They were still pretty high off the ground, and her palms were sweaty.
    “I’ll do it for you,” he offered.
    “My mother’s number should be there.”
    He scrolled with his thumb. “Kat Fjord?”
    “Yes.”
    “What message?”
    “Just tell her that I’m still at work, and I’m okay.”
    After sending the text, he glanced up at her. “Anyone else?”
    Helena thought of Gwen, her best friend since childhood. She owned a tattoo parlor downtown, but it didn’t open until noon. Helena hoped Gwen had been in a safe place during the earthquake. “You could try Gwen.”
    “Gwen?”
    “She’s a friend of mine.”
    “I remember her. Dark hair, tattoos.”
    It didn’t surprise her that Josh had noticed Gwen. She was pretty and unusual. Sometimes she stopped by the zoo to do animal sketches or have lunch with Helena.
    “What’s her number?”
    She started to recite it but drew a blank. “I don’t have it memorized. All of my contacts are stored in my phone.”
    He accepted this answer, but he still seemed curious.
    “What?”
    “Nothing. I was just wondering why you thought of calling her before…”
    Her boyfriend. Helena’s stomach clenched with unease. Mitch was smart enough to contact her mother for news, but she felt guilty about not trying to reach out to him. Instead, she’d fantasized about touching Josh.
    He put the phone away. “It’s none of my business.”
    She agreed. The next few minutes passed in tense silence. Josh wasn’t good at stillness. He shifted his weight back and forth, stretched his neck muscles, readjusted his grip. Either he had to pee really badly, or he was drumming up the nerve to say something.
    She focused on the nearby tree branches, glancing down at Zuma every so often. The aviary must have collapsed, because there were exotic birds flitting around. Maybe one would land near Zuma and inspire a chase.
    “For the record,” Josh said, “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend when I asked you out.”
    She closed her eyes, wishing he’d leave the subject alone.
    “I’m not a poacher.”
    “Why are you bringing this up?”
    “Because you’ve given me the cold shoulder ever since.”
    She’d given him the cold shoulder