Daniel's gut tightened and he felt sick again, though this time it wasn't the nausea. It was mental. The fact that he had left his brother behind still stayed with him. It haunted him even now. Rod's face. His hands hitting the hood of the car even as the shots rang out. Even as Daniel peeled out in a cloud of sand and drove away as quickly as he could.
God. He'd left his brother to the wolves in the dark of the desert.
"Yeah. Someone tried to rob us. They started firing. I got hurt, got into the car..." His voice, flat and tired, drifted off. He didn't want to think about or talk about it.