Junkrat's eyes followed Roadhog as he exited the room, expression that of one puzzled Junker. He hadn't been told to follow him or to stay with the tourists, so naturally, as was his first instinct in any place he hadn't been, he began rummaging around in an attempt to find anything of use.

Didn't seem like much other than scrap and useless junk, though anything could be made useful in the Outback. The peg-legged man knew that well. If he hadn't learned to improvise, he wouldn't have survived very long after the initial disaster. He still found it hard to believe, at some point he was just a normal person living in the Outback, and in the blink of an eye it seemed everything changed.

Glancing over a thin shoulder to the terrified tourists, Junkrat thought briefly on these dumbasses who made disaster a vacation. The homes and lives of thousands had been destroyed because of the government's decisions. These people were just like those bureaucrats- selfish and entertained by tragedy. Then again, Junkrat was pretty selfish too... but not because he was a dick. He was selfish because he had nothing- that fusion core was the first thing of real value he'd ever had.

When Roadhog returned and guided the tourists out, Junkrat now chose to follow to see what he would do. Furrowing his brow in confusion as the tattooed man pointed to a bus and instructed them to leave safely, Junkrat looked up at him.

"Oi Roadie, why are we lettin' them go? They're no different from the suits that got us into this mess!"