The flight over had been mostly uneventful. Junkrat has passed out asleep several minutes in and drooled all over his own shoulder, Roadhog worked steadily through a stack of magazines, and Mei busied herself with more last-minute calculations and scenarios for the weather patterns so close to the derelict omnium. She even struck up polite conversation with their flight captain, who informed her that Australia's errant weather patterns were very well-known amongst pilots and required special training to approach. This was further cemented by the increasing turbulence that started bumping their plane in increasingly severe jolts in the air, despite them still being over the ocean, until the pilot politely requested Mei go back to her seat so he might concentrate. She spent the rest of the flight strapped in her seat and riding out the random dips and drops of their flight, while wielding off the now-awakened Junkrat's offers to 'comfort her'.
Their ship finally maneuvered above a landing pad on the coast of Old Perth, and Mei hurriedly gathered up her things and unstrapped herself, waiting impatiently in front of the door…until it abruptly hissed open in front of her and she recoiled and stepped back. It was like standing in front of a still-burning oven. Heat and sunlight poured over her like a molten, living thing, and she could practically hear the crackle of her skin drying out under its onslaught. It had been too long since she'd visited a desert, especially one so specifically severe as this. She lifted one arm against the light and backed up straight into Junkrat, who inhaled deeply and beat his scrawny chest.
"Ah! Smell that, that's the smell of home! That's the smell of 'Straya. Come on, Mei, can't wait to show you around!"
He grasped her by the arm and started to pull her out with him, and she found herself being bullied out the door from behind by Roadhog's protruding gut as the junkers urged her down the ramp. She paused by the bottom, straightening her glasses as her eyes finally adjusted to the sun and she gazed around at her first views of Old Perth.
She was surprised and perhaps a tiny bit disappointed to see how normal it was. Other than the heat, it appeared to be a very regular shipping area. There was a large amount of red dust about, especially around the bases of the ugly, boxy utilitarian buildings, but it all seemed quite run of the mill, save for the amount of grizzled and sunburned guards bearing guns standing at nearly every corner. The technology around her seemed to be a bit outdated and battered from the weather, perhaps, but there the streets seemed clean enough and the area was bustling with foreigners, albeit no omnics. Nobody even shot a glance their way as their pilot and Roadhog started unloading their cargo onto the bay floor. Mei had a feeling that the local populace knew very well not to threaten the incoming traders and supply ships by now. Junkrat had mentioned that the shipping ports were the only places with any semblance of order, even if it was a quiet and threatening kind of order.
"Well, time's tickin', let's you and me go find Bobbero while they keep an eye on the junk. Not to worry, Roadie will keep it sorted, and the guards don't much give you trouble if you keep your head down. Stiiiill, we probably better shoot through sooner than later," he turned his head away from a passing port guard, pretending to scratch at his nose, before heading off into the crowd.
She was busy trying to tie her jacket around her waist, finding it already soaked with sweat, before scrambling after him. "Hey, wait for me!"
The further away they got from the main drag by the coast, the buildings got shabbier and further apart and looked more like the junker towns that Mei had first imagined, piece-meal structures with bits of scrap and metal tacked on to guard against the blowing sands. Hovercars gave way to actual old wheeled vehicles from years long gone by, and she saw fewer guards and more common citizens…who seemed to be getting more and more naked as well, forgoing shirts and pants and often wearing little more than shorts and sandals. Despite the fact that the junker who was guiding her along was wearing much the same, she still had to fight the urge to look away out of some admittedly old-fashioned sense of modesty.
One of them, a boy who could have been no older than ten, with bronzed skin and a missing front tooth, came running along beside her.
"Miss! Oi, miss! Spare a dollar? I'll take your picture for you? Buy a candy?"
Mei was no stranger to child beggars and as pitiable as they were, she knew better than to pull out her wallet for one. She tried to smile and wave him off, shaking her head. "No, no, I'm fine, thanks. No, have a good day. Zhù nǐ guò yīgè hǎotiān."
She was still trying to shoo him away when Junkrat, who had lagged slightly behind her at some point, suddenly came charging forward with both fists raised, stomping his boot down in the dust. "Oi! Rack off!"
The urchin, finding himself faced with nearly 7 feet of junker rage, scuttled to a safe distance but still close enough that he and Junkrat could yell at one another, shouting in a lot of fast-paced Australian slang that Mei couldn't begin to translate. She had grabbed onto Junkrat's arm to stop him from going after the kid, when she saw a flash of metal in the child's hand as he turned and fled down a nearby alley. Even then, it took her a moment to realize that he had been hiding a knife.
"…Was that child about to rob me?"
"Yeah, probably. Saw him about to go for it and came runnin'. He probably thought you were a tourist…which, I mean, you are, but you're my tourist. Heh, the little fruit loop had balls to try it though, this close to the main."
"Well, at least you scared him off so it didn't go any further. Hm…I haven't even been here half an hour, and a child tries to mug me. I hope this doesn't set the tone for the rest of the trip."
Junkrat guffawed and offered her one of his wide grins. "What a welcome, eh darl? Don't worry, I'll keep us on the right track. Speakin' of, Bobbero's shop is just up ahead."
They rounded the bend and found a rather dilapidated looking brick building that served as a mechanic's station, surrounded by a metal barbed-wire fence and several sentry turrets. Numerous roller vehicles sat inside; old motorcycles, cars, RVs, trucks, and even an outdated tank all sat baking in the sand lot. Closer to the actual shop, a car was held up on jacks and a male form in black oil-stained overalls was only half-visible beneath it. Dark fluid was running from the engine of the old roller, which Mei supposed was a bad thing and was what the mechanic must have been fixing, a chorus clanks and scrapes of metal on metal echoing from the work going on, nearly drowning out the music that was crackling and sputtering from an extremely old and extremely filthy 1990s boombox radio.
Strolling right up to the car, Junkrat brought his metal hand up to bang it twice on the side of the hood. "Oi, Bobbero!"
The man below yelped in surprise and jolted slightly, banging his head on the metal below with a clunk. Mei winced, and Junkrat laughed uproariously. A moment later the mechanic man rolled himself out from under the still-leaking automobile. He was a large dark-skinned older man, with a salt and pepper beard and a ragged looking skullet. Like Junkrat, he was missing one of his arms, but instead of a replacement hand, sported an apparently homemade tool-switcher where his forearm used to be, the mechanical devices whirring as the wrench tip was removed and a hook hand slotted into place. He was glaring daggers at the other junker as he rose, wiping his remaining hand off on his filthy overalls as he regarded his two visitors.
"Well, looks like I got an appointment to keep," he growled, adjusting his back with an unhealthy-sounding crack. "Guess you two cunts finally dragged your arses in after all."
Mei's jaw tightened, chin wrinkling. She knew the slur was interchangeably used as both a derogatory word and a fond one in this place, but it surely did not sound friendly. "Excuse me…"
"You're excused. So you're the girly Fawkes was talking about." Bobbero eyed her up and down, pulling a cigarette from his pocket as his tool-switcher flicked away his hook hand and was briefly replaced with a lighter, setting it aflame as he inhaled. Mei paused, looking between the two, but they did not seem to notice or care that smoking around the oil and gasoline-soaked mechanic shop was an obviously bad idea. He continued on, "Usually this dill and his big mate just want repairs on that motorbike of theirs. First time they've ever asked me for a van. But, can't really blame you for not wanting to cram in with him in the sidecar. What business has someone like you got in the inland, anyway?"
Junkrat merely leaned back on the jacked-up auto as casually as he was able, which wasn't very. "Weeeell, you know how it goes, Bobbero. Like I told you, me and Roadhog, we've gone legit. And this foine lady here, she's one of the higher-ups in our new agency. She's a real class act, we're gonna need the best of the best of what you got, hear?"
Mei really did not feel like a 'class act' of any sort. She had already peeled off her hoodie at first arrival and was left in a rumpled tank top with an embarrassingly visible sweat stain in the middle of her bosom, her face was red and glistening from adjusting to the searing heat, and her bun was limp and sliding off to one side with wisps of damp hair sticking out all over. Still, she drew herself up as properly as she was able, and bowed her head politely. "Ni hao. My…friend…said you might have a reservation under his name? If not, my name is Mei-ling Zhou, I probably had accounts payable t-"
Bobbero held up a hand to cut her off, waving her away. "Nah, I got your friend's van all ready. So long as he brought me the stuff."
"The stuff? I wasn't aware there was any stuff we were bringing…" She shot Junkrat a look, but he was already prepared with a placating grin, pulling the heavy pack off his back and dropping it with a thud. For a moment she had a horrifying expectation for the bag to be filled with pills or bundles of unidentifiable powder or other unsavory items, but though she'd heard of the two junkers robbing banks, blowing up vaults, and generally sowing mayhem and destruction, she'd never heard of them drug running.
When Junkrat opened the bag, she was relieved to see that it was filled with candy; all sorts of candy from all over the world that he must have been hoarding from Overwatch's pantry for weeks. Winston had always set aside a little stipend in the budget to keep the sweets supply running, including his peanut butter habit, and to help content in particular, as 95% of her diet was made up of processed sugar. Mei could see the familiar Korean characters on some of the chocolate bars and other candies inside, purloined from the stash. Junkrat was known for playing for fire, but it must have taken guts to steal candy from Hana Song.
Relief flooded through her as he held up a handful of confections, to prove that he had indeed gotten 'the stuff'. Mei sighed audibly, placing a hand to her sweaty chest and giving him an understanding nod. Okay, stolen candy to help bribe a junker for a working van was something she could deal with. It was almost, dare she say, sweet.
It was less sweet when Bobbero smiled approvingly, and Mei saw that what remained of his teeth were so rotted and yellow and speckled with black that she almost winced. The last thing this man needed was candy. But Junkrat was already sliding the bag over to him, and he picked it up with a nod and slung it over his broad back. "Now that's fine. Import taxes here are murder and fewer supply ships are bothering with perishables. Getting harder and harder for me and the wife to get our fix. Okay, you were good for it, van's out back."
She meekly followed after them, with Junkrat strutting beside her with a puffed-out chest. "What'd I say, darl? Got all this under control. Just stick with ol' Junkrat."
Bobbero led them to one of the side lots, the cameras up on the sentry turret poles following their every move. The van was an ugly, boxy-looking roller, with traces of blue paint that had mostly been scraped away by years of blowing sand, leaving the rusty green and brown metal bare beneath. It was also riddled with bullet holes and one of the mirrors was held on with tape, but neither Junkrat nor Bobbero seemed to be bothered so she opted to keep silent. The older man snared the door handle with his hook and heaved it open, and Mei peeked inside to see it was equally shabby inside, with the seats in the back all removed, the cracked plastic on the sides was repaired with more tape, and there was a suspicious brown stain on the floor that probably coincided with the bullet holes.
The two junkers were chatting and laughing, and Mei decided to get to better look at the inside, placing a foot up to climb inside, when she felt a familiar pair of hands suddenly encircle her waist and pull her back.
"Junkrat, what have I said about the grabbing thing! Just because people are smaller than you, that does not mean you can treat them that way!" she chided, pushing him away as he set her down on the ground.
"Just wait a minute, love. I just wanted to check…" He urged her a step back, then approached the van himself, rubbing his chin. After a moment's cursory inspection, he tentatively lifted his peg leg, leaning back as he slowly poked it into the van first.
There was a loud beeping noise that Mei recognized immediately as a sensor, before a small beam of light appeared on the metal rod that served as his foot. Immediately afterward, there was a loud metallic bang that sent her reeling, as Junkrat stumbled backward and fell on top of her. Her ears were ringing and adrenaline surged through every part of her as she scrambled to aid him, rolling on top of him and ready to see him wounded and bloody, but found him only slightly dazed as he blinked up at her. She followed his gaze, and saw a shotgun hanging from a string, swinging back and forth in the doorway, where it had gone off and blown a hole in the back of the van from its position just over the doorway, where it had been poised at head-level. An actual, archaic shotgun trap?…
The lanky junker sat up slowly as she slid off of him and they turned to face Bobbero, who was grinning widely with his rotted teeth on full display. Junkrat lifted an arm as if to go for his grenade gun, but just pointed at the oil-stained man, finger shaking back and forth as a similar manic grin spread across his own face and the two began laughing wildly, peals of hyena-like shrieking mixing together and doing nothing for Mei's still-frazzled nerves.
"Ooooooh, Bobbero! Ya almost got me!"
"Maybe next time, cunt."
Hopping up off the ground and leaving Mei sitting dumbfounded in the sand, Junkrat hobbled over to the van and began casually undoing the remains of the shotgun trap, still chatting animatedly with Bobbero, who was just leaning nearby on his newly-damaged van. Mei heard none of it, busy trying to calm the trembling in her legs as she managed to stand. She wasn't sure exactly what she had just witnessed, but it seemed to be some sort of murderous junker tradition that they had just completed without her knowledge.
Junkrat tossed the shotgun into the back of their newly-acquired vehicle, whomping Bobbero fondly on the back several times before jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. "Oi, Mei, I'm gonna go sign the paper and get a coffee with Bobbero before we go pick up Roadie and the gear, want to come with?"
Mei shook her head, voice coming out far more shrill than she meant. "No! No no, I'm okay! Thanks! I'm just…going to sit out here for a bit, I think."
Bobbero and Junkrat looked at her as though she were the odd one, before shrugging and trundling off back towards the main shop.
Mei swallowed and waited until they were out of sight before pulling out her phone, speaking into its recording device in her native Mandarin. "Day 1. Arrived in Old Perth, Australia for Operation Eco-Outback. I have been here approximately…forty eight minutes. A child has tried to attack and mug me, and our vehicle dealer rigged a trap but failed to kill my guide with a shotgun. Paid for the van partially in stolen candy. No sign of errant weather yet, but I am learning a lot about junker culture…Winston, if I make it out of here in one piece, please remind me to apologize to you later."
She tried to hit the button to stop recording, but found her hand was still shaking slightly.
She had gone into this project hoping for an adventure. It seemed she'd found it.