Rogues of Overwatch

by Dustin Martin

Sylvia’s group came upon two downed employees and an officer about two hundred feet from the river. All were alive, though they groaned and stayed in the dirt. Sylvia radioed it in, calling for a medical team, and examined each of them. “You’ll be okay,” she told them. The officer’s pistol was missing and she sighed. “Perfect.” When she finished checking the downed party, she stood, wiping dirt off her knees. “Doesn’t look like they were seriously hurt. Or gassed. Maybe we’re lucky and she doesn’t have any toxin built up at the moment.”

  “Or maybe she’s saving it for us,” Aidan said.

  “Thank you, Mr. Sunshine,” Jando said, heading forward with Sylvia.

  “Just considering all options.”

  Sylvia picked up some discarded, blood-stained cloth. “If her wound tore open, it should slow her down.” Sylvia unholstered her own pistol and moved through the trees. “Spread out, twenty feet and stay quiet. She could be nearby.”

  When they turned to fan out, a jangling ding-a-ling rang out. Everyone rounded on Jando, who lifted his foot. A wire was caught on his shoe. At the ends tied to tree trunks were tiny bells. He picked the wire off, setting it down and stepping over it.

  “Great. The ding-a-ling here let her know where we are,” Aidan said.

  Lydia peered into the dark forest. Heather could be hiding behind—or—in any tree. Her heart raced and she left the others to their own sections. After a couple of hundred feet, they all heard a rustling ahead.

  Sylvia trained her gun on the sound. She slowly approached the rustling, while the other three came at it from an angle. However, one of the other search parties emerged, raising their hands when they came face-to-face with Sylvia. She lowered her gun.

  “Sorry,” one of the group members said.

  “Any sign of her?” Sylvia asked.

  “None so far.”

  She nodded. “Okay. Check along the river back there. We don’t want her doubling back.”

  The group left, and Sylvia and the others went back to searching. She had them spread out farther until they barely saw one another through the trees. Lydia took the far end away from the river, shining her light from side to side. She aimed the flashlight at the ground, adjusting her eyes to the darkness for a moment. That seemed to help, and she thought she saw better.

  A shadow darted to her left at the light’s edge. Lydia followed it, looking back at her group every dozen feet. Their flashlights broke through the trees enough to lead her back like fireflies. She climbed a hill and spotted something moving up ahead. Lydia ran after the figure.

  Suddenly, an arm clotheslined her. Lydia fell onto her back with a whump! and the shadow hopped over her. She reached out, grabbing the hem of its pants. A foot collided into her forehead, then her arm. Lydia let go and scrambled to her feet. She forgot her flashlight and chased after the fleeing woman.

  “Heather!”

  The warnings and caution forgotten, Lydia bolted after her. Despite Heather running in a snaking path through the forest, Lydia easily gained on her. The woman ran on her good leg and kicked her left leg forward, keeping it in the air as much as possible. Lydia cleared most of the distance between them. The whole time, she focused on Heather, the urge to catch her driving her to pump her feet faster.

  It was only by the light of the moon that she saw the metal glint. Lydia ducked to the side, hiding amongst the trees as Heather fired. The gunshots boomed in the silence around them. Bits of tree bark shattered in front of Lydia as bullets embedded into the wood.

  When she heard a click, Lydia sprinted at Heather. The woman threw the gun and reached into a bag swinging on her shoulder. She hurled a pot and water cups at Lydia, grabbing anything hard to fight off her assailant. Just as she chucked an empty bandage tin, Lydia leapt. She tackled Heather to the ground, rolling and wrestling with her. Heather kneed her in the stomach and threw her off. But Lydia struck Heather’s bad leg as she jumped up. Heather cried out and crashed to her knees.

  Lydia jumped onto her back, arms wrapped around her neck. She dragged Heather to the ground, holding her and staying on top. Heather elbowed her side and bashed her head into Lydia’s nose. But Lydia refused to give up and squeezed tight, pinching the other woman’s windpipe shut.

  Heather gasped and choked, clawing at Lydia’s arms, struggling for air. Lydia suddenly realized what she was doing and loosened her grip. No longer choking, Heather wiggled and fought, turning to face her. In the dark, her mouth opened wide and the hissing gas poured out. Before Lydia could clamp her mouth shut and hold her breath, the tasteless gas seeped into her nose and throat.