Page 22 of Factory Controller

Heather awakens as a heavy mist descends on the area just before dawn. Visibility is limited to about ten feet around us, which isn’t as much as it sounds.

“Did I sleep all night?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t take my turn at watch.”

“It’s fine. You obviously needed it.”

“Did you get any sleep?”

I shake my head. “Not really, no.”

She stirs off me, and I rise from the elevated sleeping platform. I stretch out a thousand little aches in my back and let out a gaping yawn. “First things first. We need to refill our canteens.”

“Is there a stream or river nearby?”

I consider this for a moment before shaking my head. “I’m afraid not. Fortunately, the Green will provide plenty for us to drink.”

“What’s that?” Heather looks around. “Is there a natural spring around?”

I grin and reach over her head to grab the wide frond of a small palm. The water rushes off the leaves in a sudden, short downpour. Heather shrieks and backs away.

“Jerk,” she says. “That was cold.”

I know she’s cold, because my trick has rendered her tank top translucent again. I force myself not to look and, instead, take out my canteen.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Here, let me show you how to collect the dew.”

Heather still fumes, but she watches as I demonstrate folding the leaves over to create a ravine, funneling the water into the canteen. In short order, she sets about filling her own canteen. We add the tablets and screw the caps back on to let chemistry happen.

“How much further do we have to go?” Heather asks, her blue eyes full of cautious hope.

“Not a lot further. We’ll definitely reach the village before nightfall.”

She nods, relief spreading through her features. “Let’s get going, then. The sooner we’re out of this forest, the better.”

“By all means.”

I lead the way, leaving the game trail behind when we reach a wide expanse of dry fields filled with long, brown grass. I slow our pace greatly as we cross it, my eyes watching the ground every step of the way.

“Watch out for snakes,” he says. “This is their preferred habitat.”

Heather looks down at the ground with trepidation. “Is there another way around?”

“Yes, but because of the wetlands we’d have to go around, I estimate it would add another day to our journey.” I notice she still isn’t moving, so I sigh and turn back to her again. “You’ll be fine, so long as you don’t step on them, all right? And you won’t step on them if you keep a close look out.”

Heather reluctantly steps onto the grassy field, picking her way with caution as she follows my path. My eyes dart about constantly looking for vipers, or even something seemingly benign like a forest squirrel or wild dog. Even a non-venomous bite can quickly become septic in the rainforest.

I’ve picked our path halfway across the field when I come around a particularly tall bushel, and freeze. A black-scaled reptile ten feet long sits directly in our path. I don’t know what it’s doing so far away from the water. Perhaps it got lost in a flood. All I know is we’re going to have to go around—way around.

“What’s wrong?” Heather says.

“Shhh,” I say, grabbing her hand. “Back the way we came. We’re giving this guy a wide berth.”

We creep back along our path and forge a new trail fifty feet from the caiman. When we reach the end of the grassy field and take up another game trail, Heather visibly relaxes.

“Is it like this every day in the jungle?”

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