Mandy (Part 2)

Mandy was taken from her home on a winding road that made its way along high ridges and deep canyons.  The mountains gave way to foothills and beyond that lay a valley that spread as far as the eye could see.

Out in the valley, places that had once been towns and cities were now just remnants of buildings that had been bulldozed flat or gutted by fire.  Most people had moved to refugee settlements, away from the metropolitan areas.  These were made up of mobile homes along with camping tents and tool sheds repurposed as domiciles that sat tightly packed and surrounded with high fences topped with barbed wire.  A recently privatized state prison nearby had evicted its entire inmate population and now advertised cells for rent to those who could afford something a little more upscale than settlement living.

One unmistakable feature of the valley was the prevalence of open-air crematoria.  By a long-standing executive order, all corpses were to be burned in these facilities.  The fluids from the bodies of zombies, which did not burn, flowed outward from the bonfires and killed all vegetation they touched.  From the elevation of the foothills, the toxic rivulets that stained the earth around the fire pits looked like strands of coarse black hair.

The truck descended into the valley and continued along a main highway that had, like everything else, fallen into disrepair.  Potholes were unavoidable and large metal pieces of former automobiles were a common sight along the shoulder and out in the middle of the road.  Driving here in the day was dangerous.  Attempting it at night would be suicidal.

After a while, the truck pulled off the highway.  It drove up a dirt road bisecting two fields sloping gently upward on either side where lettuce had once been grown but now yielded a crop of weeds.

The truck came up to where there were a dozen steel cages lining the side of the road, stopped, and then backed up against the last of them.  Carl got out of the vehicle, trotted over to the cage, and opened it.  He then drew his sidearm, slid open the back door of the truck, and stood back.

At the same time, Dan lit a highway flare and climbed through the door that went from the cab of the truck into the main cargo area.  Mandy stood at a slight crouch and grunted at him.  She had freed herself of the net during the journey and was completely naked, the few strips of clothing she had on her after 15 years caught in the nylon.

Mandy was hungry.  She had been unable to hold onto the arm that lured her when she was trapped.  A much larger meal was now close to her but she was kept away by a red hissing flame.  She greedily eyed his love handles.

Dan waved the flare back and forth as he approached.

"How would you like me to shove this right up your ass?" he asked her, rhetorically of course.

Her dislike of fire outweighed her hunger and she retreated.  Dan moved toward her steadily and soon she was out of the back of the door and into the cage.  Carl swung the cage door shut and latched it.  For the second time in one day, Mandy was trapped.

Carl took a few of photographs of Mandy in her cage then the two men got back into the truck and drove away.  

A few of the other cages were occupied.  There was a fat man, an old woman, and a young man who had lost both his legs.  They were all zombies.  Mandy had no interest in them.

She spent the next three weeks in her cage.  She was given nothing to eat and it rained on her twice.  This continued until one cold Saturday morning.  Mandy was crouched motionless in the corner of the cage, a layer of frost covering her body.  A red light flashed in a small electronic box in an upper corner of the cage.  There was an audible click and an entire side of Mandy's prison came loose and fell flat onto the cold hard earth.

She did not respond to her newfound freedom until the scent of human flesh carried by the morning breeze found its way to her nostrils.  She got out of the cage and stood upright, then walked toward the origin of the smell, which came from somewhere beyond the barren field on the other side of the road.

When she crested the low hill, she walked toward three men standing about 50 yards away.  They were a few paces back from the severed arm that had first lured her and now was put out as bait again, thawing atop a picnic cooler. 

Two of the men were Carl and Dan.  The third man was taller than the others.  He wore a leather bomber jacket and camouflage pants that been ironed so there was a sharp crease running down each leg. He was also carrying a hunting rifle, which he pointed at Mandy and fired.

The shot was wide of its mark and the bullet sailed past her several feet away.  The next shot was better aimed but too low, hitting the dirt several feet in front of Mandy.

Carl walked over to the man and flipped a switch on the side of rifle, turning on the laser sight.  The man pointed the rifle so the red dot was directly over Mandy's heart and pulled the trigger.  The shot would have killed any living person.  Mandy didn't even slow down. He put another bullet into her right thigh, which gave her a slight limp.

"You've got to aim for the head, Mr. Madison," Dan called out.

Mr. Madison put the red dot in the middle of Mandy's forehead and fired one last shot.  The bullet entered Mandy's brain and she fell backward.  She lay very still in the shadow of a sign facing the road that said:

Zombie Hunter Safari

Where the savior of humanity is you!

Carl looked at Mandy through a pair of binoculars and then gave the all-clear signal.  The three men walked over to her.

"I got her! I sent her back to hell!" said Mr. Madison.

"You certainly did, sir," said Carl.

"You know," said Mr. Madison.  "I envy you guys.  I spent the whole war in my gated community and never saw any action.  Our private security took care of everything."

"We certainly could have used you," said Carl.  Isn't that right, Dan?"

Dan nodded.

Fluid seeped from Mandy's wounds, killing the surrounding weeds.