Page 54 of The White Rider
“Derek is a lawyer, and there’s one in prison.”
“Okay, we are not sending a lawyer in jail for fraud to question these women. Derek was a personal injury lawyer. I tried talking to him about law once, to help with my studies, and all he wanted to do was brag about how he worked with chiropractors to get insurance companies to fork over as much as possible for a bump in a parking lot. Plus, he’s kind of a dick.”
Pepper nodded.
“He totally is. He only survived this long because he’s like a cockroach. Fine. I’ll agree to this, but where do we move them that’s not the prison that can securely house that many people?”
“Remember that neighborhood we used to drive by in your fancy car and talk about how one day, one of the guys that lived there would come to the strip club andPretty Womanus? They’re all either dead or Bubbas now. We could move them there and live in one of those houses, man-free.”
“I like the way you think. I’ll grab a few men and commandeer one of the busses. You go with the bus. I want to be there in the White House when those women wake up.”
I wanted to be there too, but I decided not to go. They didn’t need to see my face. Sure, I had been adamant about getting them out of that situation, but they were only in it in the first place because my dad was the fucking Antichrist.
I ran from him. I was the one that killed him in the end. I hated everything he ever did. Still, none of this would have been possible without my blood. It wasn’t taken with my consent, and none of these people knew the Rage Mutation was a result of experiments done on children.
Still, they’d been with the Bubbas for who knew how long. That radio show where my father and I traded barbs had put a target on my back. It was back to my pink hair and tattoos again. It was pretty fucked up I hadn’t seen a single person in D.C with pink hair, and I knew that wasn’t just common in my neighborhood in Los Angeles.
Maybe I was being a coward. Maybe they needed to hear from me how Isaiah had hurt me too. I didn’t want to risk it. This wasn’t some one up game of who the Antichrist hurt more. There wasn’t a single person on this planet his evil hadn’ttouched. Even those poor, misguided Bubbas were going to pay the ultimate price for believing in him.
People needed closure now. I wanted to help with that as much as I could, but the fact still remained that I was Isaiah’s only child. I knew there would be people who didn’t care what he did to me or what I did to stop him. The fact that he sired me was going to win out over any good I ever did.
And that was something I’d have to deal with for the rest of my life.
Chapter 32
I
t seemed like fighting those demons and killing the Antichrist was more manageable and took less time than rounding up all these minions and looking for tattoos on the women. The resistance brought several busses and SUVs, and it still wasn’t enough. The sheer number of people that gave in to baser urges because he told them it was okay was utterly staggering.
The guys from the prison said it was huge, but even if we crammed them four to a cell and made them sleep on the floor, there still wasn’t enough space for all of them. The Horsemen were able to find alternatives, but I realized the sheer magnitude of fallout we were dealing with. This didn’t just end with killing the Rage Heads, vaccinating everyone, and killing the Antichrist. There was a different kind of disease that had developed during the apocalypse. One that Leif couldn’t cure with science.
It took all night and most of the next day to get all the minions somewhere we could hold them until the trial. The women were either safe or somewhere they could be questioned. I was tired, starving, and officially ready for the apocalypse to be over.
I trudged somewhere hidden with the Horsemen so they could zap me to this mega-mansion. I could see the hungry looks in their eyes. They were still expecting that orgy, but I was about to either die from exhaustion or my stomach was about to cannibalize my organs!
I started backing away slowly from four horny angels.
“I don’t have the same rechargeable batteries you four do. I want to eat and sleep for a month.”
Leif pulled out his sword and cut his palm. He started painting something on the wall in blood and was ruining this lovely dead lobbyist’s expensive wallpaper.
“We saw you in the Oval Office, Speedy. Youdohave rechargeable batteries. Your injuries started healing, and you got strong enough to kill Isaiah after Leif painted the same sigil he’s painting now,” Asher said.
“Great, turns out that I do have something in common with my vibrator. I’m pretty sure whoever wrote that sigil for angels didn’t do it, so you can give your girlfriend enough energy to fuck you.”
Leif must have completed the circle because there was a flash of light, and I suddenly felt like I’d gotten all the sleep I needed after an incredibly long day. Yeah, I could go for some sexing right now, but I had a very particular list of demands.
“Okay, your little bloody drawings are better than any energy drink on the market, but I’m not doing anything until I eat something.”
“Do you want quick or delicious?” Asher said. “I’ve been going hunting in areas with better game and stockpiling the meat in the deep freezer since the power grid went back up.”
“Stop it, Asher. We all know you’re anal about freezing leftovers, too. You’ve probably got a stack of quiches frozen,” Dice said.
Asher cut his eyes at Dice.
“Fuck you. You all wanted me to get in on this whole harem thing. I jumped on the train. She’s hungry, and I’m trying to spoil her. I haven’t even gotten to have her alone yet. My first time with her is going to be sharing her with you selfish assholes. At least let me offer to cook meat for my woman first.”
“Under any other circumstance, cooking me a nice chunk of meat you hunted and skinned yourself would be sexy as fuck, and we can do that later. Killing the Antichrist, fighting demons, and rounding up minions burns alotof calories, and if someone doesn’t feed me soon, I’m going to start eating raw angels. I’ll love you for a long time if you have food, and I don’t even care if it tastes good.”
