24. EVE
Eve slammed her fist into the heavy bag. A left and a right, then another left.
“Dammit!” she screamed, pushing the bag away.
A tear rolled down her cheek, but it was purely from the pressure. Yet another day of not being taken seriously. In this day and age. Hell, even in the middle of Armageddon, a girl can’t catch a break. The intercom buzzed. Knowing from long experience that she couldn’t press the button properly with her boxing gloves on, she laboriously lowered herself into a position to press the button with her nose.
“What?” she said.
“It’s Admiral Fall, Ms. Smith,” whoever the i***t on the other end was said, “he wants to talk to Mr. Bergeron.”
“God damn it,” Eve said, before pressing the button with her nose again and saying, “tell him I’ll be right there.”
