Staying Alive

7

Mandy had thought she’d toughened up over the last two weeks. She’d seen bodies. She’d seen people shot. To say she’d been OK with it all would be completely wrong. But she was getting used to it, adapting as people do to intense new circumstances.

But all that adaptation was failing her now.

She was still behind the tree, out of view.

Her whole body was shaking with fear. She felt sick to her stomach, like she might vomit at any moment.

The adrenaline was coursing through her. Her vision had narrowed down to a tight tunnel.

She held the gun, but her hands were shaking so much, she doubted she’d be able to use it.

She’d felt like this before, years before, when applying for her waitressing job. She’d felt like she was going to pass out, just sitting in her car, application in hand. Later, a friend had told her it had sounded like a panic attack.

If that was a panic attack, then what she was experiencing now was certainly a panic attack.

What timing.

She needed to be moving. She needed to take action.

But instead she was frozen.

Maybe it was the weeks of dwindling food supplies. Maybe it was the constant stress. Maybe it had all built up to this.

Mandy had hidden behind the tree as the van drove up the road. She’d heard voices in the distance, towards the house. Then she’d heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

Now all was quiet. And Mandy waited. She didn’t know what’d happened. She was too terrified to look. She was horrified at the thought that Max or Georgia or any of the others had been shot.

She didn’t know who had done the shooting. She didn’t know who was in the van.

The sun was low in the sky. Within an hour, it would be nightfall.

Mandy knew that tonight the moon would be bright. Not that that gave her much comfort.

Should she head towards the house? She knew she was playing the coward. Maybe her friends desperately needed her help.

She couldn’t just sit there, waiting. She didn’t know how much time had passed. She didn’t have a watch. She’d always checked the time on her cell phone. But that was before the EMP. Before everything had changed.

Finally, Mandy forced herself to her feet. It took all her willpower. She peeked out from behind the thick tree trunk.

The house still stood. There was no movement anywhere. She couldn’t see if Chad was on the roof or not. The van was there. From where she was, it looked as if the doors were all closed. She couldn’t see over to the other side, however.

Where was everyone?

Mandy’s eyes scanned the area, looking for something, some sign of what had happened.

That was when she saw the body lying on the ground. Whoever it was, they were clearly dead. But Mandy wasn’t close enough to see properly.

She remembered the scope on her hunting rifle. She felt like an idiot for not thinking of it before. Then again, she still wasn’t used to carrying a gun.

Her hands shaking, Mandy pointed the rifle at the body. Using the scope, she could see that it was a man. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it wasn’t one of her friends. Maybe he was the man who’d driven the van.

Maybe he’d attacked the farmhouse group, and been killed. Maybe it was safe now to go back into the farmhouse.

But Mandy hesitated. She didn’t know why, except that it was strange there wasn’t any movement around the house. Normally, someone would have come out to do something. Wasn’t Max going to check that well? And why wasn’t Chad on the roof?

It was possible, of course, that he was merely on the other side. But the rules of the watch that Max had laid out clearly stated that the watchman needed to keep an eye out in all directions.

Mandy heard a sound behind her.

It sounded like someone walking through the long grass, a soft, swishing sound. It was so soft Mandy wasn’t sure if she was really hearing it or not. Maybe she was imagining things in her heightened state of awareness and fear.

Mandy spun around.

A stranger was walking towards her. It was a woman, only about five feet from Mandy.

The woman had long brown hair that was matted. Her eyes shone with something, some intense look that chilled Mandy to the bone.

The woman didn’t speak. She stood still, looking at Mandy, eying her, eying her rifle.

“Hello?” said Mandy.

The woman didn’t answer.

She was practically skin and bones, already quite gaunt. Mandy’s fear shot up another level. Mandy saw that the woman was desperate. Maybe she’d been a normal person before the EMP. Now she was a shell of her former self, hungry and desperate. She looked like she’d do anything.

The silence hung heavy between them. The moment seemed to stretch forever.

A thought shot through Mandy’s brain—how strange that two strangers had shown up the same day.

Then again, maybe Max was right. He’d predicted that around this time survivors would reach these parts. And he’d predicted that they’d be desperate, ready to do anything. Max had said these people would have absolutely nothing to lose. And that they’d already lost their humanity.

The woman in front of Mandy suddenly rushed forward, charging Mandy.

Mandy acted instinctually. She swung her rifle at the woman. The butt of the gun collided with the woman’s side. It made a sickening sound.

Mandy didn’t want to hurt anyone. She never had. But her instincts were kicking in. It was either Mandy or the stranger.

And Mandy wasn’t going to give herself up.

She’d do what she had to do, however horrible.

The woman grunted in pain.

But it wasn’t enough to stop her.

Before the EMP, Mandy had never been in a fight before in her life. She’d gone to a school where only the boys fought, and even then only rarely.

The stranger grabbed the rifle, and she held on tight. Moving her leg, she shot her knee up. It connected with Mandy’s groin, sending pain shooting through her. The pain was almost too much for her.

They were locked in a battle for the rifle. Both of them held it. It swayed this way and that, like two arms locked in an arm wrestling match. Neither would give up. Their eyes were locked.

A silence hung in the air. Neither of them spoke a word. Mandy heard only her own breathing, as well as the stranger’s.

The stranger, despite being starving, had an incredible strength to her. It was strength that frightened Mandy.

Mandy remembered the knife in its plastic sheath. It might be her only hope. If she lost control of the rifle, she would certainly be shot.

Killing Mandy would only give the stranger the belongings she had on her. And she didn’t have any food with her. But it wasn’t about logic. It was about the instinct for survival, an instinct that could drive nearly anyone to do things they’d normally shudder to think about. It was an instinct that could cause horrible violence and pain, and not even necessarily for any reason, except that the instincts had become too strong…

Mandy could already feel her arms getting weak. Their legs were somehow locked together, as Mandy held the stranger’s knee between her thighs, which she pressed tightly together.

It was a stalemate.

And there was only way out.

Mandy knew what she had to do. But she needed one hand free. That meant letting go of the gun. It was a dangerous plan. But it was the only one she had.

Mandy let go of the rifle with her right hand.

Doing so swung the balance of power towards the stranger. The stranger almost had the rifle now. Mandy couldn’t hang onto it long with just one hand.

Her right hand found the plastic handle of the knife with the four-inch blade. It came out of the sheath easily.

Mandy didn’t waste any time. She drove the knife forward with all her strength. It penetrated the woman’s abdomen.

The stranger screamed. But she still clung to the rifle.

Mandy pulled the knife out, and stabbed again.

And again, and again.

Finally, the stranger collapsed to the ground. Blood covered her already stained and dirty shirt.

But the stranger wasn’t dead.

Mandy acted quickly, while she knew she still had it in her. She didn’t want the stranger to suffer more than she had to.

Mandy bent down and with a single motion, slit the woman’s throat.

Mandy grabbed the rifle with one hand. Her knife, covered with blood, was in the other.

Mandy turned around, walked about four feet, and then bent over and vomited the little food she had in her stomach.

The world was a blur to Mandy. Without thinking, she moved automatically. With blood on her, she started trudging towards the farmhouse. She was in shock, horrified with what she’d done, and wasn’t thinking about the gunshots she’d heard earlier.

The sun in the sky was setting, but Mandy didn’t even notice.