The Huntsman Read Free

the
water of any debris or fish. You can see her water broke. Part of the placenta
is dangling from her rump. Betty bent her legs to lie down. Water lapped
against her flanks and submerged her rear. She seemed to heave and gulp for
air. Sealable nostrils exhaled two loud snorts. The water behind her roiled
then turned red. Miranda held her breath. An eternity passed before a miniature
hippo surfaced to take its first breath. Ears wiggled with the fierceness of
rotor blades. Sounding like two furnace bellows, water sprayed from its
nostrils.
    Betty rose to her feet. All her attention focused on the newborn
swimming underwater, rapidly acclimating to an aquatic life. Any sign of
trouble and Betty lowered her huge snout to give her calf a gentle nudge. An
almost painful joy surged through Miranda’s heart. Greg’s arm draped her
shoulders. He loved her deeply but it remained unrequited. Miranda’s
girlfriends thought her crazy to rebuff the kind and handsome journalist’s
advances. She allowed herself to lean against him then pulled out a tissue to
dab tear-filled eyes. The vets beamed broadly and offered congratulations.
Miranda straightened from under his arm, turned toward the nearby handlers.
    “Let’s give Betty plenty of space and time. Right now, she’ll be
territorial and protective of her calf. Remain alert. Clean her pen only when
she’s in the pool.” Miranda raised her head at the sight of two interns and a
security guard racing toward them.
    “Dr. Logan, Dr. Logan. Ben’s got Ashley trapped in his pen. She’s
hurt. Maybe bad.” Fear drained the color from Miranda’s face. Every day she
stressed the importance of safety and the need to follow procedures. In Africa,
hippos claimed more human lives than any other animal, including lions and
elephants. She’d noted Ben’s change in behavior since isolating him from Betty,
had visited him daily to provide comfort and reassurance. The guard stopped
panting long enough to double her fear.
    “EMT’s are on the way and I notified the police.”
    She broke for the indoor enclosure and quickly outpaced everyone
rushing behind her. She continued past the Hippo-Drome’s plaza and entrance to
the rear service area where a small crowd milled about. Security cleared a path
for her. “Did you evacuate everyone?” The head guard nodded. Miranda turned to
the arriving handlers. “Wait for me here. Don’t come in unless I call you.” She
noted Greg’s look of terror and turned before it infected her confidence. With
a soft whoosh, the door closed behind her. The normally boisterous interior
made its silence eerie. She padded toward Ben’s stall and began to sing in a
low, soothing voice.
    Rock-a-bye baby,
in the tree top
    When the wind
blows the cradle will rock.
    When the bough
breaks, the cradle will fall
    And down will come baby, cradle and all.
    A 3.96 GPA had brought her to the zoo as a fresh-faced twenty-year
old sophomore from the mountains of western North Carolina where she studied at Mars
Hill College. That the college represented the country’s preeminent and most
rigorous academy for zoological study, made the grade achievement more
impressive. All pregnant mothers, even hippos, warranted special treatment and
her summer internship’s arduous duties included removing gigantic poop from
wherever Ben’s mom dropped it. Three days after her arrival, Ben’s mother went
into labor and died during birth. The event so traumatized an idealistic
intern, it brought tears whenever a mother survived an offspring’s delivery.
    A desperate race to keep the orphan alive began. One after
another, the herd’s nursing cows rejected the infant in favor of their own
calves. Unwilling to chance a defensive mother killing Ben, the staff pooled
their Arts and Crafts skills to cobble together a makeshift hippo dummy. They
hoped the fake river horse would prevent Ben imprinting on a human. Miranda had
to lie inside a hot, immobile, laughable replica through which her