Page 49 of Factory Controller

The sun hangs fat and red on the horizon when we finally reach Macapá. I shake my head and snicker.

“Never thought I’d be happy to see this place.”

“It’s not Manhattan, but it beats the hell out of the place we just left.”

I shift nervously in what remains of my seat. Every one of the people I see on the street might be working for the human traffickers, or Isabella directly. Most likely, they think we’re dead.

The driver turns around and glares at us. “You got a destination or are the city limits good enough?”

“Um, good question.” Trent turns to me. “Heather? Where would you like him to drop us off at?”

“Macapá International Airport,” I say without hesitation. The driver rolls his eyes.

“The airport? This time of day? I’m going to have to get myself a room here in town. Can’t drive at night, my headlights don’t work.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I heave a sigh.

“That ruby more than paid for a dozen hotel rooms, so stop your complaining and take the lady to the airport,” Trent says firmly.

Despite the driver’s dramatic posturing, the traffic’s no worse in front of the airport than before. Trent and I get a lot of strange looks because of our appearance. Only now do I realize I still have some of the native face paint on my nose, and our garments are in tatters.

Nothing that can be done about it now. I stride confidently into the airport and make a beeline for the beauty store I passed by when I arrived.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to pick up some things from my locker.”

“You have a locker?”

“It’s a figure of speech. It’s more like an emergency kit prepared by the Factory. I’m not sure if it was prepared just for me but, in any case, I get to be the lucky girl who actually gets to use it.”

I enter the store and get frowned upon by the impeccable young lady who seems to run the place. As soon as I tell her what I’m here for, she does a one-eighty, all smile. She rushes out to the back of the store and comes back with a small attaché case. She gives it to me and then rushes away again.

I’m not sure where she’s gone, but who cares…I open the case and there’s three things inside: an envelope with several hundred dollars of local currency, an old-fashioned cell phone, and a gun. I take the money and the phone, but leave the pistol. I think in my hands it would cause more harm than good.

I flip the phone open and…nothing. Of course, this thing has been here forever. The battery must have died. I guess we need a charger…

The young woman returns, a battery in hand.

“It’s fully charged,” she says. “Do you need help?”

It’s been ages since I’ve seen one of those, but I still remember how to change a cell phone battery. I do and when I flip it open again, the device comes alive.

“Who are you going to call?” Trent asks.

“My contact at the Factory. He’ll be able to help us.”

I dial the number and wait. After a dozen rings, just when I’m about to give up hope, a man’s voice answers the phone.

“This had better be important. I’m halfway through streamingFootloosefor the first time and Kevin Bacon’s about to do his warehouse dance.”

“Andrew, it’s Heather,” I say, overjoyed that I finally reached someone. “Heather Duncan.”

“Heather?” Andrew’s voice seems confused, incredulous. “You’re alive! That’s amazing. We thought you were dead. I’m not sentimental, as you know, but I have to confess, I’m glad to hear you’re still among the living.”

“Why did you think I was dead?”

Andrew grunts. “Sister Isabella called. She said you went out by yourself for a stroll in the wild and vanished. According to her, you couldn’t possibly have survived.”

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