Page 42 of Factory Controller

At the sight, adrenaline surges through me, giving me the strength to snatch up my knife and throw myself at the jaguar. I grab its bushy tail and start cutting at its rear hindquarters, the only target I can reach.

The jaguar hisses and tears off into the underbrush, bleeding from the minor wounds I left behind. I hang on to its tail for only a second before it slips free of my grasp. I’m pulled down into a hard face-plant, and decide that it’s such a relief to be off my feet I’ll just stay there.

I don’t really have a choice anyway.

Everything’s turning black.

HEATHER

The sun slants in through a window in the medicine man’s hut, spearing across Trent’s gently rising chest. The hut smells of the unguents and strange herbs the tribe’s medicine man used to stave off infection and help Trent with pain.

In broken Brazilian, the medicine man assured me Trent will make a full recovery, but he’s been unconscious for almost an entire day. I move over beside his cot and reach into a bowl holding water and a flax cloth. I wring out the cloth and gently dab his forehead. It must be a hundred degrees inside this hut. I don’t know how anyone can stand living here.

I sigh when Trent doesn’t respond. I turn away and plunk the rag back in the bowl of water when he groans.

“Trent?” I go to his side and place my hand gingerly on his uninjured shoulder. “Trent, are you awake?”

“Heather?” His voice is weak, and thick with sleep. I wince at how dried and cracked his lips look. “Where are we?”

“Back in the village.” I hold a cup of tea near his lips. “Here, drink this. The medicine man says it’ll help, and you’re dehydrated to boot.”

Trent sips the tea, a rivulet running down his chin and spattering onto his bare chest. With my help, he drinks the entire cup. I go and spoon him up another dose as he sits up in bed.

“Easy.” My face crosses in a scowl. “The medicine man worked very hard patching you up after that jaguar gnawed on you. Don’t go ruining his hard work.”

“The jaguar…it didn’t come back, did it?”

“No, you cut a big hunk of its butt off and it was gone.”

“How did we wind up back in the village?” He pokes at the bandage on his shoulder.

“Leave that alone.” I take his hand and remove it from the bandage. I hang on to it while I continue speaking. “From what I understand, but some stuff probably got lost in translation, some of the village hunters noticed the jaguar in our path, and the chief sent runners to intercept us. Because the trail got washed out, they couldn’t find us in time.”

“But they helped you get me back to the village?”

I nod, holding the tea to his lips again. “One of the runners was the apprentice to the medicine man. Good thing, too, because you were bleeding bad. He patched you up enough for the journey back to the village while his friend and I assembled a litter. We took turns carrying it, so one person was always resting.”

I favor him with a sheepish look. “We, um, dropped you a couple of times on tough terrain.”

“I don’t remember,” he says, eyes squeezing shut. “Why didn’t you just go on to the city? We were almost there.”

I frown at him and growl, “Go on to the city? Without you?”

“Yeah, the tribe could have taken care of me. You could have gone on and delivered your message to the Factory or whatever. Why didn’t you?”

I set the tea down and take his hand again. “I couldn’t just leave you. Not after all we’ve been through together.”

“But, now I’m just going to slow you down—”

“I’m not leaving without you, Trent.”

His eyes grow somber, and his hand squeezes my own. “Not leaving the rainforest, or not leaving the village?”

I extricate my hand and gently kiss his dry lips. “Sleep, Trent. The tea will help you heal, but it also makes you sleepy.”

His head lowers back to the mattress, and soon his chest rises and falls in a deep, restful sleep. I kiss his forehead and pet his hair before turning to leave.

Our days take on mind-numbingly tedious routine. I don’t mind taking care of Trent, but every day is the same. I rarely venture outside of the hut at all. After a week, Trent notices my growing stir-craziness and has a suggestion.

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