The Daughters of Men

Chapter 1

"Hey lady!" a man shouted angrily. "Can we get this line movin' or am I gonna be standing here all day?"

Rolling her eyes, Holly spoke into the phone, "Excuse me ma'am, can you hold for just one second? Thank you so much." Placing the phone on the counter and pushing the 'Hold' button, Holly turned to the gentleman who had just been shouting and politely said, "What can I do for you today, sir?"

"Well, I want a goddamn pizza," he blurted out angrily, his left eye twitching slightly. "I've been in line for like thirty minutes, and as soon as I get to the front of the line, you answer the phone? This is some of the worst customer service I've ever received."

Smiling weakly, Holly replied, "And what kind of pizza did you want today?"

The man gave her the meanest stink-eye he could muster. "Just two pepperoni pizzas."

"Fresh out of pepperoni," Holly lied.

The expression on the man's face went sour immediately. "What do you mean you're out of pepperoni? You're a fuc--"

"Sir, I'll remind you this is a family restaurant," Holly interrupted. "Now, we can offer you a sausage pizza or a Canadian bacon pizza, or literally any other type of pizza. But we're out of pepperoni."

"I wanted a pepperoni pizza, girl," the man growled.

"Well, I wanted an easy work day without annoying man-children shouting in my face about things beyond my control," Holly remarked sympathetically. "Turns out today has been a disappointment for everyone."

Dumbfounded, the man stood there for a second before he angrily whispered, "I want to speak to a manager immediately."

Holding her hand out, Holly said, "Hey, my name is Holly, I'm the current manager on duty, what can I do for you?"

Making a sound that reminded Holly of an injured boar, the man turned around, cursing under his breath and threatening to suit. Sighing to herself, Holly picked up the phone. "Sorry about that, ma'am. What can I do for you? Alright, two pepperoni pizzas, we'll have those ready in about thirty minutes."

The rest of Holly's shift went by mostly alright; there was one elderly lady complaining about not having enough sauce on her pizza and one customer attempted to get a full refund on a half-eaten pizza they claimed was missing cheese. But finally, at eleven o'clock, Holly and her coworker Paul managed to close the store on time before Holly threw on her dad's old leather jacket over her backpack, and walked out of the door.

"Hey!" Paul suddenly shouted, causing Holly to turn around before getting on her motorcycle.

"What's up, Paul?" Holly asked, frowning slightly.

"I was just checking to make sure you were okay traveling alone," Paul stated. "They say the Black Hand's been attacking people on your side of town. I wanted to make sure you're not gonna get attacked."

Smiling, Holly replied, "I'm absolutely certain that I won't get attacked by some masked vigilante. Thank you for your concern though, it's very touching."

"All I'm saying is this Black Hand guy is a real problem," Paul remarked, a hint of concern lacing his voice. "Vigilantes are bad news. And this one seems to just go after random people. You're a person. You could be a target."

"I'll keep my eyes peeled," Holly promised.

"Thanks," Paul sighed, giving a weak smile. "Have a good night, Holly."

"Goodnight Paul. Stay safe out there."

The drive across town to her house was not particularly long, but for some reason Holly took the longest route possible to get there. This normally caused about thirty minutes to get home, even though taking the expressway would have gotten her home easily in ten minutes.