The Overwatch Story

Chapter 11 - A Perilous Healer

Ana and Jack crouched in the shadows as she navigated the narrow alleys, finding the routes through the labyrinthine tangle of streets and pathways, keeping an eye out for the patrols that circled like hawks. For once in her life, she was grateful for the city's patchwork infrastructure. In the shade of one of the massive, derelict cooling towers, the heat from the oppressive afternoon sun was a little more tolerable. It didn't bother Ana, but Jack was laboring. His genetic enhancement should have helped him acclimate and, more importantly, stop the bleeding but it was seeping through his shirt.

"You need to take better care of yourself," Ana said.

"You sound like Angela," Jack grunted as he coughed up some blood.

A police car passed overhead, lights flashing and then she signaled Jack to move forward.

Jack leaned against one of the walls behind Ana "Reminds me of Prague."

"Prague was your fault. Why you ever thought Reinhardt could be stealthy is beyond me," Ana replied.

Ana waited for a reply from Jack to defend himself. When he didn't reply, she turned around to see he had collapsed on the paving stones, out in the open. Not now, Ana thought as she rushed over to him trying to wake him up with no luck. She slung Jack's arm over her shoulder lifting him up and carrying him down the alley into her base - The Necropolis.

Jack drifted awake, which wasn't normal as he was always a light sleeper. His eyes adjusted rapidly to the dim light of the room as he sat up. He was on an old military surplus cot with a threadbare blanket. His side ached like hell.

"Finally," Ana walked over, silent in her steps. "Tea?"

"I'll take whiskey if you have it."

Ana rolled her eyes. "Yes. I happen to have that just in case you show up."

"Tea is fine," he smiled. " I've been shot before, Ana. It never felt like this." Jack grimaced as he shifted, twisting around to get a better look at the wound. There were three large gashes crisscrossed his back and sides, but they'd been stitched together with dark thread.

"Looks like a butcher went at this," he said as he ran his fingers over the jagged stitches.

"Well, you can take care of yourself from now on, if you like." Ana said before continuing "there is something very wrong with that wound. We should probably take you to a doctor. Dr Ziegler's not too far away. She's set up camp here in Cairo."

"No doctor," Jack said. "And especially not Angela." How would we even begin to explain this to her? I doubt she'd want to see us now. Two lost ghosts. Jack thought.

"You were always very stubborn. That wound needs someone to see it. Why has it not healed yet?"

"It should have. Maybe the shells were laced with a biological agent?" He asked as he looked around Ana's base. It was a mix of tactical equipment, military surplus, surveillance devices and some light touches of domesticity. The place was filled with antics that made it more of an archaeological site than an apartment.

"This place looks more of a museum than a base. What is this place?"

"It's a necropolis - A city of the dead. I found all these antics when I came in. I can't throw them away, can I? I figured once I'm done, I'd hand them over to an archaeologist I know, Dr Faisal"

Jack blew on his tea gently and took a sip.

"We tried to find you," Jack said somberly. "I used every resource at my disposal. Gabe even put McCree on it personally. Everyone tried to convince me you're dead and said I was irrational. But deep down I knew you couldn't be dead" And I was right, Jack thought.