Will They Get Me?

James

Carl's POV

James died during the night. We didn't have enough bandages, and he was slowly going paler from blood loss. I didn't have the right material to save him. His breathing was growing jagged. There was nothing else I could do.

"I'm scared." He whispers to me hoarsely.

"It'll be okay." I lie to him.

"Try to sleep, you'll be ok."

"No! I know I'm going to die. If you meet my parents, if they're still alive, promise me you'll tell them that I love them. You weren't just a good friend Carl, you were my best friend."  He slowly drifts off while closing his eyes.

"I'll tell them. You were a good friend too, but it's ok you're going to be fine." I bite back a sob.

He sighs slowly and closes his eyes completely this time. He stops breathing. I wanted to punch myself. I should have put more bandages!  Or at least something to stop him from dying!

Suddenly, he starts to breathe again.

He opens his eyes. But they weren't his usual friendly brown colour. They were brown all right, but cold, and hungry. I had cut off his leg too late. The poison had already spread. It took only minutes for the poison to spread from his ankle to halfway up his shin.

He looks at the bloodstained floor. His eyes grow wide. He looks at his leg and the blood still flowing out and his eyes grow wider.

He looks at me.

His eyes grow so big I swear they were going to pop out of his head. I slowly pick up the axe from the floor. His ashen, gray coloured face follows my movements. My every move he looks at me with those hungry eyes.

"I'm sorry!" I sob.

I take the axe in two hands and he suddenly registers the sharp blade.

In one, deft movement, I cut his head off.