Jamie looks back at him, taking in just how drained Daniel
looks. By contrast, Jamie's holding up remarkably well - he
manages to walk and talk at the same time. Long strides.
Confident.
JAMIE
Are you good?
Daniel just stares up at him, trying to catch his breath.
Jamie keeps walking, giving him little choice but to follow.
JAMIE
You might wanna lose the hoodie.
DANIEL
'm fine.
JAMIE
Seriously, the last thing I need is
for you to get heatstroke.
DANIEL
'm *fine*.
Daniel glares at the road ahead and stubbornly keeps
walking. Concern flits over Jamie's face. But just for a
moment. Then he shrugs and folds his arms behind his head,
forcing himself not to act like he cares.
EXT. CROSSROADS
At long last, in view of a four-way intersection, Daniel's
eyes light up. Two sedans sit square in the middle, their
fronts crumpled where they'd smashed clean into each other.
He approaches the wreck carefully with Jamie close behind,
fingers curled around a crowbar. The red sedan's driver-side
door is open; the blue sedan's windows have been smashed
open from the inside. But both are, thankfully, empty.
Daniel kneels at the gas cap, gas can in hand, and pulls a
length of hose from his duffel bag.
DANIEL
watch my back.
JAMIE
...What are you doing?
Daniel doesn't respond. Instead, he starts siphoning gas,
sucking hard on the end of the hose.
JAMIE
Jesus, man, you're gonna make
yourself sick!
Daniel pulls it from his mouth just before gasoline spills
from the end. He spits.
DANIEL
you got any other ideas?
He does not.
In the distance, branches rustle amongst the brush.