The White Rider by JB Trepagnier

It’s the 9th inning stretch. All bets on the line. Time to kill the Antichrist.
Asher is kind of a dick. I like Aeron, Leif, and Dice so much better. But I can’t focus on that right now. We have a mission. Stopping the end of the world. We have a date in Mexico at a little beachside estate when this is all over. I intend to make it. I’ve been experimented on, chased by Rage Heads, and don’t even get me started on the gang members.
We’re in Washington D.C. I’ve got four angels and a baby blue baseball bat named Smurfette. We’re out numbered and outgunned by my father’s army of extra Bubbas.
I still think we can do this