Page 51 of Factory Controller

“Oh, my God,” I say, sucking down a gulp of refreshing lemonade. “I forgot what it was like to drink something cold. After weeks of boiled river water, this is the best stuff ever.”

“I know what you mean,” Trent says, flagging down our waitress for another refill. A lot of the wait staff, and even some of the other diners, are laughing at us, but I don’t care. I’m sure we look like two people who just came out of the jungle, because that’s what we are. “When we were with the People, I didn’t mind eating grubs, and flatbread, and fish paste, but…”

“These tamales are the best thing ever?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says. The waitress refills his iced tea, and he sucks half of it down in one go. Trent yelps and grasps his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Brain freeze!”

“Oh, good lord. Have some self-control, will you?”

After our meal, we stroll through the many fashion boutiques and outlets the shopping district has to offer. Macapá is one of the few urbanized areas around these parts, so there’s a ton of people from the outlying districts doing the same thing as us.

“Are you done yet?” Trent asks from outside the dressing room as I try on yet another dress.

“We’ve got quite a lot of time to kill before our flight—what’s your hurry?” I spin around in a little twirl, letting my skirt flare out. The dress is a cute lime peplum with a cinched bodice, which shows off my long legs without being too tawdry with the cleavage.

“I’m tired of standing here holding these bags—”

I push open the door and stand before him in all my glory. Trent’s mouth drops open, and his eyes shine with open desire as he runs his eyes up and down my form.

“You look incredible.”

“Thank you.” I hand the clerk my torn, stained jungle gear. “Can you pitch these in the trash for me? Thanks.”

Trent laughs as I wear my new dress out. Here, in the city, I’m surprised to find I don’t feel a diminished need for his company. I no longer need him to be safe from spiders and snakes and jaguars—oh my—but I still want him near me. Need him near me.

I’m so glad he’s decided to come along. Will he stay with me when he gets there? I have no idea. I’m trying to figure out my feelings when he suggests another meal.

“Didn’t we just eat?”

“That was four hours, twenty minutes worth of shopping ago,” he teases. “C’mon, there’s a lot of places to eat at the airport.”

We take a taxi back to the airport and select a food place near the end of the terminal. Trent and I sip our ice water and peruse the menus when he abruptly stands up.

“Excuse me, but I’ve got to go and see a man about a horse.”

I assume he means he needs to use the restroom, so I nod and smile. Trent ventures off and I lift my menu again. What do I want?

“Hello, Heather. So glad to see you alive and well.”

My body trembles with a sudden chill. I know that voice…

I lower the menu with great reluctance and am not surprised to see Isabella sitting across from me in Trent’s seat.

“Isabella,” I sneer. “You’re glad to see me? The feeling isn’t mutual.”

She lets out a little sigh, as if to say ‘oh well.’

“I suppose I deserve your ire. I did try and have you killed, after all.”

“It didn’t take, and now you’re the one who should be running for your life.”

Isabella laughs coldly. “Oh? Who do you think is coming to get me? Your friends from the Foundation—or should I say, the Factory?”

I flinch, sitting up ramrod straight in my seat. Isabella’s eyes narrow as she observes me from across the table.

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