End of the Sabbath, Beginning of Another Night

[Annabel Caldwell]

A soft groan issued from Shimrith's throat as she pulled the cumbersome woman from the building onto the fire escape. Smoke clotted her nose as it billowed out of the window and up into the sky. The fire escaped shook precariously as Julie finally made it out of the building, and Shimrith watched her partner, who seemed to be torn between following them out the window, or going back inside. "Why?" Shimrith thought to herself. "If there's anyone still inside, there's not much he can do for them." It was a sad fact, but the heat that was radiating from the building was almost too much just for the mask.
Julie's heels had caught in the grating, and as Shimrith bent down to see what she could do about that, she thought she heard a voice from within. The pitch was not deep and gravelly like Reed's, but higher and younger. Shimrith's head jerked upwards as she listened for anything else, but there wasn't anything except the crashing from crumbling timbers inside that had been felled by the flame.

Shimrith tugged on the shoe on Julie's left foot, but the grating refused to give it up. Shimrith sighed and applied pressure to the stem of the heel with her own foot until it snapped off. Before Julie could say anything about her left heel, the same was done to her right. Roughly, Shimrith guided Julie down the stairs once Reed did climb out the window. The wail of sirens could be heard faintly, but slowly increasing in volume.

Since Shimrith was the first one off the fire escape, she pinned the bodyguard to the brick wall of the building on the other side of the alley. He yelped in pain, for the brick of the other building was already smoking from the heat. Shimrith ignored his howls and kept one hand clamped on Julie's wrist.

"We'd best make this fast before the fire engines get here."

The figure watched, hidden in the shadows of the alley across the street as the vigilantes and their charges escaped from the building. A grim smile could be seen in a sudden piece of light from a window that had been clicked on, and then the blinds were drawn. The figure had followed the odd couple, and now watched to see what the masks would do with their bounty.

[Edward Reed]

With a hearty push and a shove, Reed was up and through the window. His added weight made the stairway shudder and a single bolt wrenched itself clear from the mortar and bounced all the way down ominously. He glanced down between the circular spaces of the grating before swinging a leg over and reached for the railing. The man made short work of climbing down and with his throat burning, he made no physical reaction and landed solidly on the pavement. Any and all discomfort was pushed away to build up and spill over another day.

Julie tottered on the toes of her now useless shoes and she was twisted sharply towards the female mask, a iron grip keeping her in place. She briefly thought of whacking the other woman and decided against it. “I think I’m gonna throw up,” she muttered, through the streaked mascara that ran like black tears down her cheeks. She rubbed her eye fruitlessly in an attempt to wipe the damage the smoke had done.

"We'd best make this fast before the fire engines get here."

The faint wail of another siren affirmed her statement and a second followed in a lonely dying howl. The slippery oily black night was burning, tinges of red and orange ambers floated almost serenely behind the building. The normally cool night air had seemed to bellow with exhaust of the flames, sending the heat flaring. Reed dug into a picket and pulled free a carefully bundled length of twine and when he reached out to grab Julie the woman instantly recoiled, taking foolish refuge in the taller woman. The mask pulled his hand back as to rethink touching her before the same hand shot out and the gloved hand grabbed what little material that woman wore at her shoulders and hauled her closer. He passed the twine to the now empty hand of his partner, knowing she’d know what to do with it.

Glass crunches underfoot and Julie’s legs buckle, it’s been one hell of a short night, but she somehow remains upright in her backpedaling. Her back hit the warm surface of the other building, but its cooler then the air and she relished in it. He intimidated her, a creepy nut job she had no idea what he wanted. Fires, that’s right. Julie managed to twist her head and break away form looking up into the soulless black eye the nondescript mask and towards her crumbling building. She wanted to cry and felt the tears behind her eyes, mixing with the already runny tears of smoke and heat.

“Answers.” The short curt word sent the woman over the edge. She raised a hand to strike him but before it could connect, Reed caught it and squeezed hard enough to make his point. “What do you know.” It was demanded rather then asked and she wrenched her hand back and surprisingly the man released his hold. She rubbed her sore wrist, using it as a distraction to draw out her time and glared to the left of her at her supposed bodyguard. He was so fired, the bastard.

“The… the dates.” She finally said, her voice hoarse and scratchy but the masked man didn’t ease up. “I know them. Just, gimmie a sec.”

He shifted uncomfortably one from foot to the other, restrained by the fact his perpetrator had breasts. What maddening morals possessed him, he wouldn’t strike the woman as he would a man. Fear and pain were easy to make and a few broken fingers made even the biggest man talk. Now he simply had the smidge of height difference and years of experienced quiet bullying to finish this. Reed had lost his pencil in the office above them but he would take careful note of everything.

Julie took a deep breath. “Those are the dates of the fires here.” She shrank back when the man pushed closer and bumped her head on the brick wall and held out a hand in an attempt to stop him. “And! And yeah, okay. Maybe the ones responsible show up at my place. That’s what you’re getting at, right?” There was no answer. “I ain’t stupid but Christ… Look! What the hell am I supposed to do now?!” Julie threw a hand towards the roaring fire that engulfed her establishment.

[Annabel Caldwell]

Shimrith’s gloved fingers accepted the twine and her hold on Julie was passed off to her partner. Using her back and the weight of her body, the bodyguard was kept against the brick wall as she unwound the twine. He called her several vile and disgusting names, but she didn’t pay them heed. Once the twine was free, she pulled his hands to her and tightly bound them. She hauled the bodyguard from the wall before shoving him to sit on the ground. “Stay.” Her voice was firm, but her hand strayed to her blackjack just incase the man ignored her command. She had already made a mess of his face; she wouldn’t hesitate not to do the same to other body parts.

As Reed spoke to the madame, Shimrith begin to wonder just what kind of coddling could get an answer from the woman, who seemed intent on stalling.

”What the hell am I supposed to do now?!”

“This is not our fault, Julie. It is the fault of the arsonist, who may have been patronizing your establishment. He is the one who has destroyed everything that was yours.” A sympathetic view of things may coax the woman into divulging what she knew before the coming sirens arrived at their destination. “If you know something, don’t you want them to pay for what they have done to you?” The sirens were only blocks away now, judging by the volume. “They may have unearthed what you are really doing here, and if so, you’re going to jail, Don’t you want the same done to them?” Shimrith looked over at her partner, though her eyes were hidden behind the mask. Hopefully this would get an answer out of her, not just more stalling. If not, Shimrith would deal with her. She knew that her partner had a bit of an aversion towards doing anything to members of the female sex.

The figure watched as it seemed that no fruit was coming of the vigilantes’ effort. The Zippo flicked open and lit a cigarette before it was brought to a pair of lip. The end glowed red, casting a faint glow, enough to make the figure’s eyes shine for a second before the glow was dimmed in an exhale of smoke. The sirens were awfully close. Unfortunately, the figure could not watch and see what resulted from the masks’ efforts without risking getting caught. The cigarette was flicked away in the alley, the figure hunched over, and departed.

[Edward Reed]

At the sound of the woman’s voice, Julie flicked her gaze briefly from Reed but kept her hand up as if it would keep the man at bay. “Yeah,” she said after mulling over the words. “Yeah, I getcha. It’s a dog eat dog and you better believe I want the bastard who did this to pay.” She jumped when the man bore down on her again, closing the narrow gap between them and she could smell the aftershave through the stench of his clothing and body. “Stop! Stop… just,” her voice softened and she brushed the palm of her hand across the folds of the vigilante’s trench coat. “you know, maybe we can help each other.”

A gloved hand snapped up and knocked the woman’s hand away with enough force to make it sting and Julie swore, clutching her wounded hand. “Fine,” she spat. “I keep an extra eye on the new guys that wander him. You don’t know what their kink is, you gotta feel them out. There were a couple of uptight businessmen, you know the kind right?” She glanced at the woman for a flicker of support. “A stick up the poop chute. Anyway, they didn’t give me their names, at least their real names. I got Larry, Curly and Moe, a couple of real class acts. And, you haven’t got a cigarette on you? No, figured. It was Moe who I had to chase outta my place. Burned one of my girl’s with a lighter. That costs extra.”

Reed shifted his head, still aware of the woman but he looked past her to the brick wall. The tension of his shoulders spoke of the thin restraint and he growled, voicing his disgust. “Height?,” he barked.

Julie turned her head at the sour breath. The sirens screamed and she could swear she could see the light bouncing off the walls. “What?”

“Height? Weight? Hair?”

“Uh, five ten, five eleven maybe. One seventy, brown hair, blue eyes. Really pretty blue eyes. He had a tattoo on his right shoulder, a red and orange bird, I dunno one of those fantasy bird things. Okay? I helped you guys out, can’t you just you know… let me go?”

[Annabel Caldwell]

Julie's look for sympathy or support yielded nothing. Shimrith's jaw set in a firm line and her black-out eyes betrayed no emotion. Her answers came nonetheless. Finally, they were getting somewhere, and not a moment too soon by the sound of the sirens. The woman listened carefully, but pulled herself back from Julie in revulsion with the statement that burning one of her girls cost extra. What would any soul do to deserve having to try and scratch out an existence by being used an abused? And why would someone want to capitalize on such treatment? Shimrith’s lips pulled back into an unforgiving snarl that made no sound.

"Uh, five ten, five eleven maybe. One seventy, brown hair, blue eyes. Really pretty blue eyes. He had a tattoo on his right shoulder, a red and orange bird, I dunno one of those fantasy bird things."

A phoenix, most likely. Shimrith wondered if perhaps he was a pyromaniac, especially to have a bird who periodically burst into flames and resurrected itself imprinted onto his skin forever. That was worrying. Most likely denoted a disturbed mental state.

" Okay? I helped you guys out, can’t you just you know… let me go?”

Shimrith did not answer Julie directly. "If we tie her wrists as well, the authorities should be able to find them and we won't have to make a delivery." She turned towards Julie and simply said, "Thank you for your information, but you're going to take responsibility for what you've done. You will not outrun judgment forever. Might as well be tonight."

[Edward Reed]

Before Julie could give a rebuttal, Reed grabbed the hand the woman was rubbing and twisted it down as he simultaneously pulled another perfectly bundled line of twine. He brought it to his mask’s mouth and through the material he bit down on a piece and it came loose as he yanked it free. The sudden wail from the woman made the vigilante flinch, a twitch of his brow hidden by material and he made short work of trying Julie’s wrists together in front of her. He looked up at the blinding flash of lights and the last wail of the fire truck that had arrived at the scene, a single squad care stopped at the edge of the alleyway, the officers inside not quite seeing them.

With a well placed shove along her back, Reed pushed the woman towards the street and backed up to his partner. It was time to go. He gave one long look at the bloodied bodyguard, who smiled through stained teeth and spat once at the feet of Shimrith. Reed thanked him for with a sudden knee jerk to his feet and hauled him up by the front of his shirt. Despite being a good half a foot shorter then the bouncer, it was relatively easy to bring him to eyelevel.

“Apologize.” Reed snarled and twisted the dazed dolt towards his partner, one hand still balled in his shirt and the other went for a thumb, twisting it sharply. The man’s eyes widened, the whites startling around the haze of his green pupils and he made a garbled sound, similar to the words sorry ma’am if he wasn’t missing three teeth and blood oozing from his broken nose. Seemingly satisfied with the response, Reed let go of the man to let him totter off as his world spun in pain and looked away from Shimrith before a gloved hand went up to his collar and tugged it up a couple of times. With one foot behind him, he spun around and quickly walked towards the opposite direction of the alley to the other street that would take them into the clear.

[Annabel Caldwell]

Shimrith was silent as Julie was bound by her partner. Her wail, while heard by the two masks, was drowned out by any others by the sirens. Both were the same pitch, it almost sounded as though the two were harmonizing. Shimrith’s eyes averted to ensure that the bodyguard was not loosening his bonds or trying anything to get an upper hand over the two. The flavor of the smoke from the burning bordello hung heavily in the air and could be tasted with each breath in. Shimrith absentmindedly wondered if she was breathing in the ashes of anyone who had been caught into the fire. Sweat beaded down her forehead from the heat as Julie was shoved forward. The mask was ready to turn and leave when saliva from the man on the ground suddenly landed on her feet.
What happened next was so sudden that Shimrith could not say anything in protest to her partner’s actions except for, “Reed!” In her opinion, the spittle was a low and base attempt at getting her goat, and she was not going to risk herself and Reed sharing a holding cell with the two bound criminals before them just because the bodyguard made a petty action against her.

”Apologize.”

Shimrith’s head turned to look at her partner before looking at the bodyguard’s grotesque beaten face. She had made the mess of blood, bruises, and abrasions. He gurgled out his apology and Shimrith nodded once. Her partner led the way from the alley, but she looked once more behind her, taking in the entire scene of firefighters pouring from the trucks, running to hook hoses up to the fire hydrants, and then a man in blue using his flashlight to illuminate Julie and the bodyguard. Shimrith turned back to watch the back of her partner and saw no more. Once the pair were away from the burning building and somewhere where Shimrith thought it was ok to speak she said, “Her description was rather like DB Cooper’s. He could be any average man walking down the street.”

[Edward Reed]

The man shoved his hands into his pockets and picked his way around an overturned trash can, pausing a step when an orange tabby materialized from the darkness and skittered away. He pushed out of the alleyway and down a street, Reed following the course he had laid out in his head in the off chance they needed to get out there fast. It was easiest to stick to side streets, the main roads were reserved for the medical and police vehicles that sped by with gawking bystanders that only seemed to come out when violence was abound. The vigilante pair would loop around the trouble and back to Shimrith’s truck.

“Her description was rather like DB Cooper’s. He could be any average man walking down the street.”

Reed turned his head to look at her, the unnerving black holes of his mask unblinking. He himself blinked a few times, the sting of the fire at the edge of his consciousness. There was no reason to rule out a possible reappearance of the hijacker but what would he or anyone else be getting from the fire? The wild and absurd thought was categorized for suspects later and he replied with a long drawn out silence. An average man walking down the street, they always were. The man dropped his chin down and settled on staring down the street in front of them watching for movement.

“Not enough,” he finally said as if it pained him. Julie had given as much information as the two were going to get out of her. He’d come back to the building in the morning when Annabel went to work to root out what the police missed. “Need to watch streets in daytime.” At the next street, Reed took that opportune to glance up at the slices of sky between buildings to gauge the time. With no watch, he had to rely on the moon’s progression and though cloudy he caught a glimpse of it. A little after midnight he presumed again turned to his partner.

“Tired?” It was an innocent enough question, but Reed knew if his partner was tired, she should go home and he’d continue on. Of course, he had the luxury of sleeping in the next day, though rarely did he.

[Annabel Caldwell]

Raising a gloved hand to wipe away the perspiration and grime on her forehead, a few flakes of dried blood fell through Shimrith's line of sight, She had forgotten that the hit from the bodyguard had drawn blood. She fingered her forehead up into her hairline. The tenderness that she felt on the crown of her head right above her ear told her the general area where the cut was. She drew her hand away just as Reed spoke.

“Not enough. Need to watch streets in daytime.”

Shimrith was silent for the moment, for she knew that daytime surveillance would rest on the shoulders of her partner, not herself. Then she thought of something, the only distinguishing mark Julie had provide, actually. "The tattoo." She said, her voice a bit gravelly at first from mucus her throat had made to protect from the smoke. "We don't know how new it is, or old, but if we asked around tattoo parlors...Maybe there could be an address, an invoice, something more solid." It wouldn't be an easy task, especially with the amount of parlors in the Big Apple, but maybe starting with the Bronx would be a good idea. A late squad car to the fire screamed a few streets over.

“Tired?”

The adrenaline that had coursed through Shimrith's veins had begun to wear off, leaving the mask slightly shaky and feeling the late hour tugging on her already. And while, yes, she needed to catch the seven-thirty bus in the morning, after a night like this she wasn't going to separate from her partner so suddenly. "I can stay longer." She responded. "Maybe our arsonist went to a nearby dive after his handiwork tonight."

[Edward Reed]

Reed replied with a firm nod to the tattoo questioning and knew where he’d spend his morning. Afternoon’s were reserved for other field work and occasionally checking up on Annabel in her day job. It was a customary stop at least once a week, he didn’t like to keep a routine in the off chance someone was watching him. In addition, the nearby stand carried more of a variety in paper he would read until being chased off. The shorter vigilante mulled over the night’s events as if nearly burning to death was an every day occurrence and he remembered.

"I can stay longer."

An indistinguishable sound, almost a gruff snort if one strained hard enough and Reed glanced about them, quick movements of his head and he reached out for his partner’s arm, pulling her gingerly by the wrist towards a narrow alley as she finished talking. He stepped around an overturned trashcan, the smell of fermenting fish and milk from the mom and pop grocery store nearby attracted a dozen or so cats and they scattered at their arrival. A black and grey tabby hissed and arched it’s bony back before scampering to the large trash bin for higher ground. Reed said nothing as he kicked around some trash to make room to stand behind the bin and pulled Shimrith to face him with her back against the wall.

“Hurt, Annabel.” It was a strange choice of words, the much softer hurt instead of injured and her civilian name. He pushed the brim of his fedora up and reached inside his coat for the little flashlight he kept in a hidden pocket. A quick shake and a tap against his palm got to work and the momentarily blinding light made him wince. He shinned it across her brow and raised a gloved hand towards the line of dried blood and paused before the stark mask shifted down to look at her for permission to touch her. Never mind the fact he had dragged her into the alleyway mere moments ago.

“Careless,” he grunted in his gloomy tone and nudged his index finger around the streak of red, slowly moving up to her hairline.

[Annabel Caldwell]

Shimrith looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was following the pair into the alley as her partner led her. She felt for a moment almost like a girl preparing to be chastened for a misdeed as Reed positioned her against the wall. The smell from the trash and the cat's hit her nostril's like a wave, and she was reminded of the night Annabel found Danny.

It was not long after William's death and the incident that put Shimrith on probation with the Guardsmen. She was between bus stops, heading to her new house when she heard the sounds of a cat-fight in a passing alley. One glance showed that two tomcats were beating on a small ball of gray fluff. With a few sharp words and tossing her satchel to scatter the large cats, Annabel scooped up the ball of fluff. Underneath the fur, the kitten was skin and bones, one of his eyes was gunked up with infection, and his back paw was hurt. Annabel took him home, and he was a welcome diversion from what was occurring in her life at the time. Annabel figured that they had both needed each other, and she was right.

“Hurt, Annabel.”

Reed's voice pulled Shimrith back to the present. "Yes, I know." They were both lucky that was the only blood drawn that night, and the only major loss they suffered. "It feels mostly superficial." The flashlight flickered on and even though her eyes were masked by nylon, she still squeezed them shut against the light. "If nothing else, I'll just have to wear a headband over it tomorrow." At Reed's unspoken question, she nodded and rolled her head so that he could get a better look.

“Careless.”

While the female could argue that it wasn't lack of care that caused the cut, she saved her breath. "The bodyguard's cuff-had better aim than he did."

[Edward Reed]

Permission given, the flashlight’s beam slid across the taller vigilante’s brow, carefully arcing around her eyes. A gloved finger prodded at the edge of the mask, pushing it a fraction down with a hook of his thumb and allowed him a better field of vision of the cut. It wasn’t bad as Annabel stated and he brushed away a few curly strands of hair that had escaped with an almost tender swipe. The tenderness lasted a beat before he deliberately poked at the cut to judge if it was still bleeding and scratched at the flakes of blood.

"The bodyguard's cuff-had better aim than he did."

The subtle tilt of his chin towards her last words was the only inclination he was staring at her. It was so easy to look behind the safety of his mask and the harsh lines of his face seemed to smooth away by the material’s surface. The smell of smoke was on both of them, in their clothes and hair and he was sure their skin was permeated with it. He had been too easy on the bloody bodyguard, he could still walk upright and the fact he had managed to one up his partner, if only for a brief moment, did not bode well with him.

“Too soft.” The man frowned reflexively, partly at himself and the flashlight clicked off and Reed took a sharp step back, turning away from the woman. He busied himself with returning the flashlight to its pocket and closing the edges of the coat. Reed wasn’t going to dwell on the reason behind his scolding, there were still things to do and having his partner to think about wasn’t one of them.

“Go home, Annabel.” He didn’t turn to look, purposefully keeping his back to her. He was being a hypocrite, being injured while on the job was nothing out of the ordinary for him and he had spent many a night out on patrol while stitched and bandaged up. This was a nothing injury but he had already made his mind up to push his partner away from him.

[Annabel Caldwell]

A sharp inhale of breath was the only hint of any pain that escaped the woman's lips as her partner's glove entered the wound. The smoke and other residues made the cut burn, which wasn't really that big of a pain, but the prod was unexpected. There was a moment when neither said a word and Reed's finger was not checking the wound. The woman's chest seemed to tighten and she could hear her pulse in her ears. She found it odd that her partner, whether Reed or Edward, had the ability to make her feel a torrent of emotions during those moments of silence. Sometimes she would feel chastised, sometimes alarmed, other times she would feel too harsh. But this moment she felt slightly on edge and maybe a little dizzy from the sudden rush of blood her pulse caused.

"Too soft."

Shimrith's eyebrows furrowed as her partner stepped away. She thought perhaps he was commenting on her, and she was puzzled. They both got hurt in the line of duty, and they had both been working together for more than a decade. Too soft? Reed sometimes was confounding, and all she could do was take it in stride. She readjusted her mask and straightened up.

“Go home, Annabel.”

"I can stay." Shimrith kept her voice even, not angry or defiant. While her partner had turned his back to her, she joined him at his side. "I think the nearest tattoo parlor is Brejik Ink on 44th." Her sentence did not ask for permission, nor did it challenge Reed's command. It was simple: she was staying, whether Reed wanted her to or not.

[Edward Reed]

"I can stay."

She moved beside him, simple and clean and to the point. The corner of his mouth twitched up and he fell into a familiar stance with his hands in his coat pockets. He accepted her presence with a short grunt and took lead, heading towards the sidewalk they had ducked away. They reappeared and Reed paused long enough to look both ways, noting the coast was clear and stepped out into the street to cross it. “Two and half blocks.” He said, giving his partner one last option to bow out. They could cut across Maple and save a good block by using back allies and though he didn’t know exactly where the tattoo parlor was, he knew 44th. They could easily make it on foot in ample time to beat a few skulls for information before daylight broke and men were off to work.