I feel perfectly aware. Heightened, even. It confuses me, therefore, that there isn't more pain. I wrapped the wounds – god, they are deep – and stopped most of the heavy bleeding. The gut wound is a mess. I couldn't really wrap it, so I just, sort of, stuffed it. It's all I can do for now, so I don't want to look at it or think about it anymore. Maybe I'm going into shock. Maybe this is what shock feels like. It seems like there should be more pain.
It's completely dark now and there's no one around the lakeshore area. The tourists and workers are gone. The little open-air bar and grill is packed up and closed. All of my friends are gone. Dead. All but Andre, and he's in this cabin. I saw him slip in here and he doesn't know I saw. That's the only advantage I have. He's got that machete, and it's sharp. Thinking about it makes my gut pulse with remembered pain. I've just got this baseball bat and pocket knife. I'll have to use the element of surprise.
I'm on the porch pressed to the wall beside the front door. My breathing is completely silent now. I cannot hear Andre moving around anymore. Has he gone to sleep? Surely he couldn't sleep after all of this. He might be wounded. I got a few good punches in before he really hacked into me. He probably thinks I'm dead.
I'm going to die. I think it's inevitable now. Why isn't there more pain? Is this shock? I don't feel light-headed. Perfectly aware. Heightened. If I'm going to die, he is too.
I remember their faces. The horror. The pain. So much blood. All my friends. Hacked to death with the machete. All but Andre.
There's no light coming out through the window. No sound. I know he's in there. I saw him slip in. Sliding over quietly to the edge of the window, I crouch down. I want to peek in, but, if he's watching the window, he'll see. It's dark out here, though. No moon. I risk a peek, but it's no good. I cannot see anything.
Steps! He's walking around. I crouch out of the window and slide back over beside the door. Is he coming out? Did he see me?
I tense up and pain shoots through my wounds, making me wince. I have to get the jump on him. I hold the bat up at the ready. He's not going to get the better of me again. I didn't hear him coming earlier. He hit me with this damned bat and got the machete from me. He sliced me up pretty good. He probably thought I was dead, but he's never killed anyone before.
Come out, Andre.