Page 136 of Promises in the Dark

“Group Bravo,” I continued, pointing to the rugged terrain around us, “you’re with me. We’re doing a sweep of the area. I want eyes and ears on every approach. We need to know what’s coming before it’s shoving a boot up our collective asses. Clear?”

There was a chorus of gritted teeth and hard nods, a shared understanding that this wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order.

Good. They were still with me.

“And also, start prepping for a potential evac on foot. We might have to move out fast if Viper can’t get us that fuel.”

Viper, ever the optimistic dipshit, piped up. “I’ll keep trying with the radio,” he said, though we all knew our chances of getting through were slimmer than a supermodel after a juice cleanse.

“Good,” I grunted, acknowledging his initiative.

I turned my attention to Raven, her eyes sharp as flint. “Raven, I need you to start inventorying what we’ve got left—supplies, ammo, everything. We need to know what we’re working with.”

She gave me a thumbs-up already moving towards the crates and packs, ready to take stock of our lifeline.

With the plan laid out, the group started to disperse, each person knowing their role. My team was ready, geared up and waiting for my signal to move out. I was just about to rally with them when Raven approached me. She had that look in her eye, the one that said she was about to drop some news that could either screw us or save our asses.

“We’ve got those empty jerrycans. A couple of us could head to the nearest town, try to barter for fuel.”

I sized her up, considering the risks. “Know any Pashto?”

She just smirked, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards in that infuriatingly confident way of hers. “Enough toget by. I can swear like a trooper and ask where’s the toilet. That usually opens doors.”

I chuckled, giving her the green light but not without laying down some ground rules. “Alright,” I conceded, the plan solidifying in my mind. “Take two men with you. Be careful, keep your comms open and if things start to go sideways, you get the fuck out. No heroics. Understood?”

“Loud and clear, boss,” she said, then turned on her heel to gather her men.

As she walked off, I felt this knot tighten in my gut. It wasn’t just the usual shit—hunger, thirst, or the fear of getting our heads blown off by some trigger-happy warlord’s goons.

No, this was worse. A sense of dread that clung to me like a bad smell after a night of heavy drinking and worse decisions.

I signaled the rest of my team, and we moved out, deeper into the belly of the beast. I needed to stay sharp, to be ready for anything. But the tension coiled in my gut, and no amount of mental preparation could completely dispel it. I knew the risks, we all did, but knowing and accepting were two different monsters.

One thing I knew for sure—this place might be hell, but it sure as fuck wasn’t going to be our grave.

Chapter 36

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the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows over the dusty streets that screamed trouble was about to show its ugly face. I kept my group close, eyes scanning every darkening corner, every flicker of movement. It was about to get dark, and that was when things usually went to shit.

We were headed back to the vehicles when I saw a car rolling in from the same direction.

I raised a fist, signaling my team to halt. “Heads up,” I muttered into my comms, eyes glued to the car on heading straight for where we had our vehicles parked. “We’ve got company.”

As it got closer, I barked orders, coordinating my team to spread out, weapons ready. We circled that vehicle like wolves on a kill. It rolled to a stop, door creaking open, and we moved in fast. Before the idiot behind the wheel could blink, we had him surrounded.

“Hands where I can see them!” I shouted, stepping closer, my finger itching on the trigger.

The driver slowly raised his hands, and then I saw the face.

Pyro.

“Rogue, you paranoid prick, it’s me,” he panted, holding his hands up like I was gonna blow him away.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the fuck down. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, lowering my weapon but not sheathing it. “You’re lucky we didn’t paint the asphalt with your brains!”

The reckless son of a bitch, had the balls to smirk, dropping his hands. “I came in a rush,” he replied, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the car.

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