Junkertown Crisis

Chapter Two

It will never happen again.

That though spins round and round my head like a shell-shocked bluebottle as I sacrifice a little of my arm bandage for my bleeding hand.

Never.

I pull the bandage tight with a grunt and reach back in for my crutch, at the bottom of the pile. I shove it under my arm and gingerly get to my feet. It's a smidge easier to walk this way. I start off down the street, dodging round the piles of glass, jagged cracks in the pavement, fallen roof tiles. I don't know where I'm going. I don't care. Anywhere but here.

Eventually I stop paying attention to anything. A couple times I tread through glass but I don't stop. The pain is a comfort. It's morbidly satisfying to look back and see one bloody footprint after another, trailing away till the nearest bend in the street. So what if I die? It's Mako's fault. It's on his shoulders now.

I take a certain joy in imagining him, finding my body in a ditch somewhere. It'll haunt him, that will. At least someone will protect my memory.

Y'see, death don't frighten me. It's the no one remembering. No one caring. And I guess that's how Mako broke me.

Night falls before I know it. Gas lights start to flicker on a few streets ahead and for the first time in hours, I stumble to a halt. A woman passing the other direction stares at me, and I scowl back. She stiffens and hurries on.

Where now?

My leg's trembling so hard I can barely stand. With difficulty I lower myself down on the sidewalk, stretch out my good leg, and set the crutch over my lap.

I've gotta be careful around here. If any Omnics spot me I'm good as dead. I don't got the dirtiest record, but it ain't the cleanest either, and them Omnics hate the slightest spot of dirt.

My belly grumbles painfully. My gut feels hollow, like someone's carved out me insides with a knife. I've gotta stop feeling sorry for myself and start finding some food.

With difficulty I force myself to my feet again and limp off down the road. Everything hurts now - my feet, my leg, the arm holding the crutch, my back, my head. I think I must be dehydrated cause my skull's pounding and I can't seem to work up spit, even to get the grime outta my mouth. But I keep going.

And soon I'm in the city. Warm light pours from windows, from under doorways and from shopfronts. My belly protests even more as the smell of fresh bread wafts across my path. There's a few people walking around and unmistakably, I draw stares.

Just keep walking, Jamie. No Omnics here.I've got to find a place to hide, a place nearby, but where I'll go unnoticed. I keep trudging on, watching every passerby. No... no one here is rich. Not even close. But many of em are well fed, or at least, not starving. Wouldn't hurt to steal a little bite of bread from one of the bakers round here. And maybe someday I'll be able to pay em back.

"Excuse me?"

I twist round on my crutch, eyes searching. Then I see her. A little Spanish girl, barely a teen, sneaking up behind me like a stalker.

"Whaddya want?" My voice comes out hoarse, almost raspy.

She straightens up, glaring. "You're bleeding," she says, pointing to my foot. "Thought you'd like to know."

The attitude in her voice ticks me off. "Think I don't know, mate?" I ask. "Think I haven't noticed half my body's ripped off?"

"You're losing a lot of blood," she says, ignoring me. "You should find a doctor."

I grip the crutch with half an arm and hobble round to face her. "Get off my arse. I've got enough to handle without you meddling in my business."

With a spike of loathing, I see her smirk. She steps closer to me and instinctively I tense. "I know your secret," she whispers. "Junkrat."

Junkrat. Haven't heard that name in ages. I try to keep from shivering at the memories that brings back.

"What do you want from me?" I ask softly.

"Not much," the girl says, grinning and pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. "I want to take you to a doctor. Fix you up a bit. There's a skilled surgeon just round the corner who can stitch those cuts of yours."

I give her a flat stare. "I ain't seein one of those creeps. I don't need stitching."

"The police are just around the corner too," she says pleasantly. "There's a bounty on Junkrat's head here. Somewhere in the hundred thousands, I'm told?" She cocks her head, thoughtful. "Mama and I could live easy. We could afford the plane back to Dorado."

I've no idea where Dorado is but I'm betting it's hella far. "Aight, I get it," I grumble. "But ain't there anything better to do besides torture me? Don't ya wanna know where my lair is, and all that?"

She grins. "You're so cute. Of course there's time for that. It'll take a while to put your foot back together." She starts off down the street, and like a cheeky little blighter she boops me on the nose as she struts past. "Follow me, Jamie."

For a moment I'm lost. My face is hot and me heart's racing, but it's hard to tell whether that's anger. Sure feels like it. But... well, gotta love a kid with nerve like that.

"Oi!" I shout, and start limping after her. "Didn't catch yer name."

She turns back. "That's a secret," she says, the corner of her mouth twitching. "But you can call me Sombra."