Factories
3rd Street & Westway Ave.
The keys all scattered across the ground Edwards stepped down from his killing machine, careful to keep three points of contact as was habit for him. Before he stepped on the ground he heard footsteps. Suspecting one of the criminals that had escaped thought it would be wise to attack him now Edwards circled around to the rear of the lift and then to the left only to be met by a masked crusader.
“Well shit.” He muttered quietly. Not only had he turned the wrong corner, but the man wasn't an enemy either. It looked like Edwards luck was turning around. The more green bands around the better after all.
It was obvious Phantom was injured. Despite the weather and dark clothing the unmistakable appearance of blood shown through and dripped down onto the asphalt. Still capable enough to make jokes and throw out a smart ass introduction Edwards wasn't too concerned about him. He'd gotten this far on his own, he could manage a bit further with some help.
“I'm Edwards, that's it. The fuck happened to you anyway?”
Before the Phantom had answered Edwards caught movement in his eye. Another green armband. Hallelujah. It was the woman who he'd indirectly saved by plowing through a mountain of flesh. Not that he'd meant to save her to begin with as in hindsight his slamming of the door likely drew the men outside and after her.
Laughing at her comment Edwards looked them both over. With only a few scrapes and a little bit of soreness from his earlier scuffle with the man with the Louvre on his face he'd come out on top so far. Phantom didn't look good and luckily Izzy was just banged up.
“Yeah the hospitals our best bet right now. What have you got for weapons? Bertha's out of commission now.”
Pointing a crooked thumb behind himself to the big yellow monster Edwards nodded towards the holsters Phantom had.
“Mind sharing?”