Terminator - Dying Light

Chapter Fourteen

The car rolled to a stop at the edge of the small, dusty village, the engine's low hum fading into the stillness of the early morning. Darcy, Tommy, and Fiona sat in silence for a moment, each of them taking in the quiet surroundings. The village was small, barely more than a cluster of buildings huddled together against the vastness of the desert. The road leading into it was little more than a dirt path, and the few vehicles parked along the street were old and weathered, much like the village itself.

Darcy was the first to move, pushing open the car door and stepping out onto the gravelly ground. He stretched, his muscles tense from the long drive, and then turned to help Fiona and Tommy out of the car. Tommy climbed out, looking around with a mix of curiosity and weariness, while Fiona followed, her eyes scanning the village for any signs of danger.

"Stay close," Darcy said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of caution. They nodded, and together, they began walking slowly down the dirt road that led into the heart of the village.

To their left, a small shop caught Tommy's eye. Its windows were dusty, and the paint on the sign above the door was peeling, but it looked like it might be open. "Mom, can we check that out?" Tommy asked, pointing to the shop.

Fiona glanced at Darcy, who gave her a nod. "Go ahead," he said. "I'm going to see if I can find someone to talk to. Maybe they've seen anything unusual around here."

Fiona took Tommy's hand, and they walked toward the shop, the gravel crunching under their feet. Darcy watched them for a moment, then turned and headed further into the village. The streets were quiet, with only a few locals moving about, tending to their morning routines. He spotted an older man sitting on a bench near the entrance to what looked like a small tavern. The man wore a weathered hat and was sipping from a steaming mug, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Darcy approaching.

"Morning," Darcy greeted him with a nod, trying to keep his tone friendly but guarded.

The man looked up at him, his eyes studying Darcy for a moment before he responded. "Morning. You folks passing through?"

"Yeah," Darcy replied. "We're looking for a place to rest for a bit, maybe get some supplies. It's been a long drive."

The man nodded slowly, taking another sip from his mug. "Not much here, but you're welcome to what we have. You'll find most folks around here are just trying to get by."

Darcy gave him a small smile. "That's all we're looking for. Quiet place to lay low for a while. Has it been quiet around here?"

The old man shrugged. "Quiet enough. Though we did see some strangers pass through a couple of days ago, didn't stay long. Seemed like they were looking for something or someone."

Darcy's eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his tone casual. "Did they say what they were looking for?"

The man shook his head. "Didn't ask, and they didn't offer. But they were military types, that much was clear."

Darcy nodded, filing the information away. "Thanks for the tip. We'll keep to ourselves and won't cause any trouble."

The old man tipped his hat in acknowledgment. "You do that, and you'll be fine."

Meanwhile, Tommy and Fiona had reached the small shop. They pushed open the creaky door, a bell jingling above them as they entered. The shop was dimly lit, with shelves lined with canned goods, basic supplies, and a small selection of dusty souvenirs. The woman behind the counter gave them a tired smile as they stepped inside.

"Good morning," Fiona greeted her, trying to sound as normal as possible despite the tension she felt.

"Morning," the woman replied. "Anything I can help you with?"