Page 30 of Factory Controller

“Right. I want you to watch me when I move, and step where I step. Do you think you can handle that?”

Heather nods. I turn about and pick a careful path away from the gunmen, fading generally south. I try to step on as firm of ground as possible. That isn’t always easy in the rainforest.

I curse silently when my foot slides along a patch of moss, leaving a streak of brown in the green. I dart my gaze about until it falls on a small fallen branch. I set the branch near the moss, hoping it appears the branch caused the damage and not a human foot. It’s the best I can do.

When we’ve gone about a hundred yards, I motion for Heather to come closer. “We can move more freely now, but try to be quiet as possible. Understand?”

Heather opens her mouth to speak, then closes it and nods instead.

“Good.” I mouth.

We move more swiftly now, no longer worried about our trail. I’ve done all I can. Either the gunmen will pick it up, or they won’t. Nothing to do now but try and put as much distance between us and them as possible.

Gradually I become aware of something disturbing; the forest sounds have all but ceased. The birds no longer sing and chirp, and the forest seems eerily still.

“Is it just me, or did it get real quiet all of a sudden?” Heather whispers.

“It’s not just you.”

“What happened?”

“Something scared them. A predator, maybe.”

“Or the gunmen have caught up to us.”

I swallow hard. “Just concentrate on moving quietly, even if they’re on a trail. That doesn’t mean they’ve caught us yet.”

I wish I felt as confident as I sound. If it was one guy, maybe even two, I might be able to take them. A whole team of well-equipped, highly-trained soldiers is something else again. Much as I hate to run away from a fight, our best bet is to flee.

I can’t stand the idea of Heather getting hurt. Me, I knew I was on borrowed time as soon as I came to the Amazon. I’m determined to get her out of this alive, though. Whatever it takes.

We come across a river, but not the one I’d been hoping for. It’s only twenty feet across, a tributary of the greater Amazon. It’s impossible to judge the depth, but the current seems slow enough to ford.

“Come on,” I say. “Just follow my lead.”

“I can’t swim.”

“I know, I’ve got you. It should be shallow enough we can walk across.”

Heather whimpers, bottom lip quivering as I tug her into the water. It reaches our waists when we hit the middle, the current tugging insistently at our bodies.

“Come on, we’re almost there.”

A shot rings out in the dark, a crack akin to but still distinct from thunder. A gout of water spurts up two feet away. They’re shooting at us.

I grab Heather’s hand and drag us out of the river, then plunge into the forest. This is not a careful withdrawal as before. This is a mad flight. Brambles tear at my clothes, branches slap my face as I lead us away from the shouting mercenaries.

I take the brunt of the forest’s wrath so Heather doesn’t have to. Blood flows down my cheek, sweat flows into my eyes, and my legs feel like lead weights, but I run on.

“I can’t,” Heather gasps. “I can’t breathe.”

I slow our pace as much as I dare. The sounds of shouting have faded somewhat, but I left a trail a blind man could follow. I perk up in hope when I hear the sounds of rushing water. That’s not a little tributary, that’s a major waterway. Maybe we can find a boat, or help…

We burst out of the tree line and find ourselves on a moss-covered rocky cliffside. Beside us, a thirty-foot-wide river plunges over the cliff, shooting out in a white, roaring froth until it strikes the bottom some hundred feet below.

My hoped-for salvation has turned out to be a dead end. The shouting of the gunmen draws closer.

“What are we going to do?” Heather asks.

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