The Mission pt.2

I stare down at the map. This road is much too narrow to be the road to the border. How long would it take him to notice? Good thing it’s overcast--he can’t tell direction by the sun. We’re making good time, but where are we headed? I take another tablet. Motion sickness pill, of course. He didn’t need to know it’s ingredients. Were these tablets the reason we are nearing yellow????? I lean back. No sense spoiling the fun.
I’m no longer motion sick. The clouds fight the horizon like oil and vinegar. I smell it’s putrid, acidic odor.
How much fuel do we have? I realize that once that needle hits E, death won’t be far behind. What a place to go out--flat, windy, and desolate. We’re making good time. The border should be coming up soon. Once we cross it, freedom will follow. Freedom from this brutish planet and cruel life. I watch the needle creep to the left.

What is the temperature in here? Has our precious supply of fuel been burned for needless heat? If he’s going to try to kill me than I must dispose of him first. Look! He isn’t even sweating. What substance did he soak his skin in, and when did he soak his skin? That’s his plan! He soaked his skin in a wonderful, terrifying substance and started burning our fuel to kill me.
Earlier I loosened three of the screws on the heat plate of the machinery in the cargo hold. He hasn’t revealed its purpose in our mission. If it’s disabled he can’t use it. I know the hidden purpose of this mission, and that machinery is to dispose of my soon-to-be-lifeless body. Its rattling is getting loud, but he hasn’t seemed to notice it.
He’s set to kill me even without the machinery. That retaining wall came way to close to the vehicle for me to ignore. Poor fool! He doesn’t realize that he is as close to death as I am. I stroke the pair of pliers in the right pocket midway down my pant leg. Two inch long needle-nose blades can easily fracture the piece of skull covering his temporal lobe. If he is gone then I will die shortly thereafter. As much as I hate him, I am dependent on him for survival. I’ll wait on destroying him.
---later---
We still have fuel. But from where? That bastard! He has an extra source of fuel and is intent on carrying out his evil mission, despite my interference.
The temporal lobe has far too much risk of death. I’ll separate his frontal lobe from his parietal lobe, frontal lobotomy style. Then he’ll be mine to control.