Page 29 of Factory Controller

“I’m going to forage for something to eat,” Trent says, standing up from the fire. “I’ll stay in earshot. If you hear me calling Marco, do you know what to say?”

“Polo,” I say with a grin. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

My belly gurgles loudly, and he laughs. “I’d better hurry.”

I settle in by the fire and consider the myriad emotions cascading through me. I should be worried about dying, either by natural causes or a mercenary’s bullet. Instead, all I can think about is how much I want Trent to kiss me again.

As if summoned by my thoughts, Trent marches back into camp. I glance up at him and smile.

“Did you find anything to eat?”

In response he stomps his foot down on the fire, repeatedly stamping until it’s out.

“We have to move. Now.”

TRENT

When I left Heather, I only meant to forage a few dozen yards from our little camp. Trouble is I came up short in the foraging department. The only berries I found were poisonous, and the roots I tried to dig up proved to be infected with a paralytic fungus.

I spread my search net out wider, crisscrossing the area surrounding our camp a dozen times, eyes peering into the gloom for any sign of nourishment. I’d have really loved to have come across a forest pig, or a lithe and nimble deer.

Considering what I ran across instead, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t hare off after prey.

I’d come around the trunk of a massive tree, careful not to slide on the moss covered, gnarled roots. My eyes widened as I took in the sight of a boot print in the moss. I knelt down and touched it. It was fresh. I looked into the forest and spotted the one thing I never considered finding this far out in the bush.

Light.

I knew it wasn’t our own campfire. I could turn around and see the feeble sputtering of amber light over my shoulder. This fire seemed brighter, bigger.

I crept forward, relying on hard-learned woodcraft to avoid making a sound. I stepped only on hard roots or solid ground, walked toe to heel in order to better control my tread. Gradually the men came into view.

My mouth flew open when I saw no less than a half dozen men in tactical camouflage, most of them sitting around their campfire. Two men stood at opposite ends of their camp, staring out into the darkness. They had rifles slung over their shoulders, military grade.

Who were they? It almost didn’t matter if they were part of the same mercenary group who fired on us before. Men with guns that deep in the Amazon meant trouble no matter what. Even if they weren’t tasked specifically with killing us, their presence meant we were in danger. If they ran into us, they very well could have decided to kill us just so we couldn’t tell anyone we had ran into them.

I back tracked carefully, fighting the urge to full-on flee. At any moment I expected to hear the underbrush behind me breaking under the gunmen’s boots. Or worse, to feel the blinding pain of a bullet through the back.

I hit our camp and rushed over to stomp out the fire as quietly as possible, telling Heather we had to go, right then and there.

“What’s going on?” she asks, snapping me back to the present.

“Shh,” I hold my finger in front of my lips. “Softly. I don’t think they’ve heard us yet, but we need to get moving.”

“Who’s they?” Heather asked in a much lower tone.

“I’m not sure. A group of men in fatigues carrying combat rifles, camped not a hundred yards from here.”

“Jesus,” she whispers. Her azure eyes swim with fear as she darts her gaze over to me. “Do you think they’re the same men who shot up your plane?”

“Could be. Even if they’re not, we don’t want to be anywhere near them.”

Heather offers no argument. When I’m satisfied not a trace of our fire remains, I scatter the ashes and try to hide all signs of our passage.

“We’re going to try and cover our trail.” I glance over at Heather. She stands a few feet away, arms hugging her midsection, features muddled in shadow. From her posture it’s clear she’s barely holding in her terror. “Do you know what that means?”

“L-like dragging a bush behind you to hide your tracks?” she says in a shaky voice.

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