Page 134 of Promises in the Dark

He turned and walked off, blending into the throng of villagers. Both of them disappeared into the dust, and I stood there, watching the locals eyeing us like vultures.

I parked my ass on a broken wall, pulled out a cigarette, and lit up. Took a deep drag, letting the smoke calm me down. We were running out of time, and my brain was spinning with too many damn thoughts.

As the sun climbed higher, turning everything into a fucking oven, I leaned against the vehicle, taking a swig from my canteen. Water. Not booze this time. Warm as piss, but it did the job. Sitting still wasn’t gonna cut it. I needed to move, shake the cobwebs out of my head.

Without much of a plan, I started wandering through the narrow, dusty streets. The locals watched me like I was a loaded gun ready to go off. Their faces, beaten down by years of this shit, didn’t have a drop of hope left in them.

Kids played in the dirt, men stood around in little groups, glaring at me like I was about to ruin their day. I tried talking to a few of them—big mistake. Most of them just stared at me like I was speaking alien, or maybe they just didn’t give a shit.

One old woman clung to a kid like I was the boogeyman, shaking her head like I was about to snatch him up. Another guy just stared at me, not even bothering to pretend he cared.

I spotted an old man hunched by a crumbling wall, figured I’d give it another shot. Tried to strike up some kind of conversation, but he just muttered in Pashto, shaking his head like I was wasting his time. Fucking language barrier was a bitch.

Frustrated, I moved on. A woman selling vegetables at a makeshift stall seemed a bit more willing to talk, but all I got were half-baked rumors, no real intel. She mentioned somenew faces showing up in the village recently, but that was all—nothing I could use.

Next, I found a group of men huddled outside some rundown shack. They watched me like I was a walking target.

“Salaam,” I greeted them, hoping to break the ice. “We’re here to help.”

One old guy nodded, a wrinkled face breaking into a suspicious smile. “Thank you,” he said in halting English. “We need...many things.”

I squatted down to his level, hoping to seem less like a threat.

“We’re doing what we can. But I need your help too. Have you seen any unusual activity? Anything strange?”

The old man’s eyes darted around like he was being watched.

“Many soldiers...come and go. Not your soldiers. Others.”

That set off alarm bells.

“Can you tell me more?”

He shook his head, fear clouding his eyes. “Dangerous. Cannot speak here.”

“Why not?” I pressed, but he just shook his head and stepped back, ending the conversation.

By the time the sun was dipping lower, casting long shadows, I made my way back to the meet-up spot. Raven and Viper were already there, looking as grim as I felt.

“Find anything?” I asked, but my viewpoint made it clear I wasn’t expecting shit.

Raven walked up to me first, glancing around and making sure no one was within earshot.

“Got some info. Nothing concrete, but people are talking about a group of insurgents moving through the area recently. Could be connected to the captain’s so-called ‘secret mission’.”

Viper chimed in. “Same here. A lot of whispers about unusual movements. Locals are scared shitless. Nothing solid, but enough to be worried.”

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Alright. We’ll regroup and figure out our next steps. For now, let’s pack up and get the hell out of here.”

I scanned the gathering dusk as we headed back to the vehicles. The villagers had fucked off, leaving us with the ominous quiet of an Afghan twilight. As we got closer, a soldier broke from the group and rushed over, looking like he was about to shit himself. The rest of the team looked like they’d rather be anywhere but here.

“Sir,” he started, his voice cracking like he was back in fucking puberty, "we’ve got a situation.”

I wiped the sweat off my brow, already bracing myself for the worst. I didn’t need a crystal ball to see that coming.

“What now?”

The soldier hesitated before spitting it out. “We’re out of gas.”

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