Losing Touch

My town is a fish tank with the water slowly being suck out. I often feel light headed, confused, and fuzzy in the head. Everyday on Mars, the red rusty planet, I feel myself losing touch with the world. The town is in mayhem. The atmosphere of Mars encompassed 22% oxygen. Now, 1 month later, the oxygen levels have decreased to 10%.

I, a futuristic colonist, woke up. "It is 7am in the morning," alarmed the clock. After preparing for work, I checked the countdown timer for when the back up machine landed. The timer said "twenty-five hours, thirty-two minutes, and ten seconds."

Exhilarated, I yelled to Kyle on the radio, "Kyle! It's coming! Tomor-r-o-w." I collapsed on the floor. "I feel...vertiginous, Kyle."

"Ah. What's the oxygen level at now, Jim?" replied Kyle.

I checked the oxygen meter. It showed 9%. "Kyle," I desperately gasped a few times for some air, "9 percent, the oxygen... is at 9...percent." I sense my body is starting to malfunction. Every so often, my limbs switch off, and I start desperately gasping for air.

After arriving at work, I was given dreadful news. I had been discharged from my job, a waiter at a nearby cafe. Everyone seems to be losing his or her minds from the lack of oxygen. Kyle and I seem to be the only people who are still conscious about our decisions.

BUZZ. "Jim. I see the machine!" exclaimed Kyle, "It's coming from the East."

"The machine has come early. Something feels amiss," I answered. "We need to get to the landing zone of the machine or else..." I felt slight suffocation.

"Jim, we need to start heading west... Now," commanded Kyle. We started preparing for the journey, but we didn't have much time. In my house, we started accumulating supplies. Food, water, sleeping bags, fuel were some of the indispensable things we put in my rover. I looked up. The machine buzzed above us. That's when we decided it was time to decamp on my rover.

"Kyle, what's the reading on the altitude of the machine?" I inquired.

"Ten kilometres and dropping fast," responded Kyle, "I estimate that it will hit in 10...Jim, what's the...oxygen levels at?"

"7%. We need to breathe 4 times a second to stay oxygenated," I apprised Kyle. We were closing in. The machine was dropping fast. 9000m. 8600m. 8300m. 8000m.

"Jim, I have a feeling this machine isn't going to survive, 100m per second seems pretty fast," mention Kyle.

I responded, "Kyle, just believe. It's going to survive, we're going to survive." The machine continued to drop. 7300m. 7000m. 6700m. As the machine dropped, we started to see it in more detail. I could see 4 colossal intake and outtake tubes coming out of the sides.

4900m. 4500m. 4000m. "We're nearly there Jim, my computer's calculations show the landing site just two...kilometres...away," Kyle uttered. He looked at his oxygen level watch, "6% Jim. Don't make a single unnecessary move or you'll go unconscious."

2800m. 2400m. 2000m. The ground beneath us started to become uneven. Kyle and I struggle to stay in our seats as the rover shook up and down, left and right. "I think we hit a rock Kyle, that isn't good news for the tire," I commented. I could feel the tire slowly deflating. Suddenly, the rover took a sharp right turn flipping the rover in to the air. Kyle and I soared 5 meters above the ground. The low gravity kept us suspended in the air for 10 seconds. We hit the ground vigorously and starting rolling for 100 meters. As we came to a halt, I saw the machine around 30 meters away touching crashing down on to the ground. It made a tremendous noise.

I looked to my right and saw Kyle with a rover piece in his foot. I told him, "Kyle, I guess I'll have to go alone, it's only 30 meters away..." My right arm stopped working and I slumped onto the rusty dusty surface of the Martian planet. I felt like a fish out of the water. Slowly, I lurched towards the machine. "This is it Kyle, believe in me Kyle. I can do this." I whispered to my self. I look at the oxygen levels, 4%. I felt my self-losing touch with the world. I was more than lightheaded; I was actually starting to go unconscious. "I reached the machine," I verbalized. That was the last word I said. My legs turned off, I was falling to the ground right in front of what were to save the whole colony and my self. As I was falling to the ground my useless right arm hit the switch. I saved the world, but not my self.
The best solution sometimes requires great sacrifice.
This is a short Sci-Fi short story for my assessment xD