Page 13 of Factory Controller

I look at Trent with a new eye. He’d seemed like an overgrown frat boy at first. A Peter Pan who ran away to his Amazonian Neverland instead of dealing with adult responsibilities. Now, I’m starting to think he retreated from society because it hurt him, and it hurt him because he cares.

“You’re really passionate about this.”

“Not really. If I were, I’d be working to stop it instead of getting drunk and high.” He laughs sardonically, but the edge is directed squarely at himself. “I’m not anybody’s hero.”

“Well, you’re my hero today, flying me back to Macapá. It’s more than I could have hoped for, so thank you.”

“Hey,” he says, a scowl spreading over his beard-stubbled face. “Let’s not leave out the fact that I’m doing it for a reward.”

“A reward you’ll get, I promise you.” I lean back in the seat. “How long should it take to get to Macapá?”

“With no headwinds, maybe an hour and a half longer?” He glances down at his dashboard and grimaces. “Damn broken ass compass.”

He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a metal disc, which turns out to be a compass. I roll my eyes at his antics.

“Hey, Dorothy’s a good plane, I just haven’t had the time to install a new compass in her yet.” He squints at the compass and nods. “Yeah, we’re on track. Should make it to Macapá in time for an early meal.”

I lean back in the seat again and sigh, rubbing my temples. It will feel so good to be back in civilization again.

“Hey,” I say as the engine sputters. “Is that normal?”

One look at Trent’s colorless face lets me know it’s not.

“Damn it.” He throws switches and checks dials in a frenzy. “Damn it!”

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re running out of fuel.”

“Wait, wasn’t your plane full when we left?”

He turns a glare on me. “Of course it was. That’s the first thing I do after I get back. We’re running dry because there’s a leak in our fuel line. One of those shots must have severed it.”

My heart hammers in my chest as the plane struggles to remain airborne.

“Do you have enough fuel left to land somewhere safe?”

“No,” Trent says with a die-hard smile etched on his face. “But we’ve got plenty to crash with.”

TRENT

“Are you kidding me right now?” Heather’s eyes are as wide as dinner plates as she stares at me from the co-pilot’s seat. “We’re going to crash?”

“That’s what I said.” I pull up on the stick, fighting to keep Dorothy level.

“Why weren’t you paying attention to the fuel pressure? How is this all of a sudden a problem?”

I shoot her an incredulous glare. “How about you let me fly the plane, and I’ll let you know if I need a bleeding-heart auditor, all right? I know what I’m doing.”

“I’m starting to doubt that very much,” Heather says.

“Oh ye of little faith.” I consider my options. The pontoons make a water landing critical. I might find a clearing or marshy plain I could set down in, but the Amazon is right there.

The only problem is, I’ve never landed this close to home before. I don’t know this part of the river as well. I can only hope it’s straight and deep enough for me to risk the emergency landing.

“Can we make it back to your place?” Heather asks.

“No, and, even if we could, it would be a bad idea.”

---