The trap is hanging upside down next to other people who are definitely way more dead than it is. It is shaped like a man with a shock of blond dyed hair atop a brown undercut, wearing large circular orange-tinted shades, a single golden earring on his left ear, and the most insane bright red hooded jacket. His left arm sparkles chrome in the sun, and he is indeed waving.

"Heeeeey! Over heeeeeeere!"

Yes, they know. That's why they're here at all. He points at his dumb city slicker. "You? Stay."

And then he gets his handgun and gets out of the car.

"Who are you and who'd you piss off!"

"Yooooou can call me... Z! That sounds cool, right? It's the coolest letter of the alphabet. And I don't know who I pissed off, they never told me their names, even though I asked!"

"Pull the other leg, pal, you can describe 'em even if you can't name them and their entire--"

"Sorry, hold on," interrupts his dumb city slicker who has absolutely popped her head out of the passenger window. "Whose blood is that?"

"Damn it, woman."

"Because that is way more blood than a human body usually contains." She points underneath 'Z.'

.... Huh.

Okay. Credit where it's due. That was a good observation.

He looks up—well, down, he's still hanging upside down—and gasps in very genuine-sounding distress. "That is absolutely too much blood, what the heck, where did it come from?"

“Mhmm. I’ve switched my assessment to ‘trap,’ sorry for the detour and thank you for humoring me.”

Back inside she goes.

Vernon… is actually now less convinced.

“You’d know better than we would, pal. What is this, a butchery site for cannibals?”

"Hmm, I don't think they were cannibals? Oh, oh, I remember now, they called themselves the 'Bad Lads Gang'. Or was it 'Badlands Gang'? One of those.

"Anyway, uh, suppose you could maybe help a guy out?" His arms are tied to his body by a tight length of rope but he sort of comically gestures at his feet with his head.

“It’s Bad Lads.” Which is who he expected to be responsible, but that now makes this make less sense. “But they usually only string up the dead or dying, so I’m real confused about your whole deal.”

"I'm very good at playing dead," he says, nodding sagely. "Very, very good."

“You look plenty alive to me. With… is that arm lost tech? Does it do some kind of stasis and then healing thing or something?”

"Oh! It must." He waves a bit with it.

“Hey, coppertop! Can you tell me if his arm or something does some kind of regen-thing-or-something?”

Out comes the redhead, who is wearing way too much white for a person wandering a desert to plausibly manage to keep clean.

“I haven’t heard of anything like that, uh, ever? Regeneration of a human body is absurdly complicated and requires a whole expensive med tech lab to pull off. That looks like it’s just a prosthetic, though… I haven’t seen anything of its kind before, that looks custom?”

“Would it make more sense for it to hold and give its host a replacement blood supply?”

“…. I’m not a doctor, but, uh, no??? It’s clearly articulated and connected with his nervous system, where would an absurdly large blood supply even fit.”

"Ohh, I think I've heard of tech that stores things in little extra spaces? I'm not sure how it works, exactly, but it's based on how plants work! I think."

“Holding open a gateway to the higher dimension plants derive their matter creation abilities from would take an absurd amount of power to sustain, not to mention that’s like, the worst thing to use that for, if we had access to it by means besides plants themselves we’d just make new plants like our dumb wasteful ancestors did…”

“English, please.”

“That’s some absolute bullshit that explains nothing and in fact makes more questions.”

“I was clear on that already, thank you.”