Page 58 of The White Rider

Dice couldn’t do this singlehanded. The Bubba trials alone took years. Other angels came down and helped out in other areas of the world. It was about time someone helped these Horsemen of mine. I couldn’t do all that shit myself.

It broke my fucking heart that some of those women were totally fine with being Marthas and supported my father wholeheartedly, though we rescued a good amount that didn’t want to be there. I eventually met with them because they asked for me. It was a wonderful experience. We formed a little support group and met while we were still in D.C.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever been personally victimized by the Antichrist. Technically,everyoneshould have raised their damn hands. Many Bubbas and Marthas went down without even telling us their names because they insisted that’s what it was now, and they were and always had been in the right.

They said Isaiah would rise again like their savior and rescue them from all of this. They were put to death, insisting just because it hadn’t happened yet didn’t mean it wasn’t coming. Most of their last words were about being willing to die for their cause, and that Isaiah would be there to lead them to Heaven when they died.

Miss Mabel lived long enough to see five more years in our house in Mexico. She helped deliver my first child. The world was slowly rebuilding. Most people had power now, and Leif was able to engineer a water treatment system that would flush out any remaining traces of the supplement.

It gutted me when she died, but she was cursing me out with her dying breath, telling me I was being fucking stupid and just to let an old woman die already. We buried her at the back of our property.

I should have been way too old to have children when I had my first, but I ended up having four more. They were all born at home since they were way more angel than the average Nephilim - four perfect boys and a little girl I named Mabel.

I was happy, and I wasn’t the only one having babies. People were rebuilding and getting on with their lives. The population was growing again.

But Isaiah wasn’t the first Antichrist and he would not be the last. The Horsemen dubbed me their fifth Horsemen.

We’d be waiting if he ever returned.