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    Chasing Filthy Lucre: New Eden Series:Rexall Cycle, #1
    Chasing Filthy Lucre: New Eden Series:Rexall Cycle, #1
    Chasing Filthy Lucre: New Eden Series:Rexall Cycle, #1
    Ebook83 pages1 hour

    Chasing Filthy Lucre: New Eden Series:Rexall Cycle, #1

    By Jarrett Rush

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    New Eden was big. It was beautiful. It was bustling.That’s all a memory. A failed political power grab has left New Eden with no government but plenty of crumbling buildings, out-of-work drifters, and strung out data addicts.

    A former cop and former soldier, Weber Rexall has spent his life taking orders. But after the government collapses, it’s every man for himself, and Rexall is on his own.

    He realizes quickly that in New Eden cash is now king. That's why, whether it's throwing fights in a basement fight club or doing security work for a friend, he'll take whatever job he can. When one of those security jobs goes violently wrong, and a rising corporate power threatens his status quo, Rexall finds a cause to believe in. It won't pay him anything, but it might change his life.


    "Chasing Filthy Lucre is a fast-paced, engaging look at an all too realistic possible future in which the rule of law has been replaced by the rule of the urban jungle. A little dystopian, a little cyberpunk, a little noir, Chasing Filthy Lucre is entirely thrilling."

    Book reviewer Elizabeth A. White, at elizabethawhite.com

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSix to One Books and Media
    Release dateNov 28, 2013
    ISBN9781498953597
    Chasing Filthy Lucre: New Eden Series:Rexall Cycle, #1

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    • 4/5
      Book Title: Chasing Filthy LucreAuthor: Jarrett RushPublisher: Sixtwentyone PressASIN: B004SHFK2OReviewed by Michele Tater for The Couch Tater ReviewThere is only one class in the community that thinks more about money than the rich, and that is the poor. The poor can think of nothing else. ~Oscar WildeSomehow the youth movement was elected to run things and the old government fell apart. RomaCorp then becomes the supplier of everything, but in order to get these goods you must have cash. Weber Rexell is always after the all mighty dollar, no matter what the job entails. Hence when the stuff hits the fan as he is working one such job, he takes on another opportunity as a data runner for the “greater good”. He is not alone in this task and if it is successful it will change the lives of everyone. That is just a small look into the world that Jarrett has made. Want to see more, then get the book...I found this action packed book a fantastic futuristic story. It is just a tease into the future Jarrett has created. The story is short, but the story line with in it is huge. The reader will be so engrossed with the events, that before they know it, they have reached the ending. Oh what an ending. It leads one to try and wait patiently for the next in the series to come out. (Hint, hint Mr. Rush). Written in a no nonsense voice with no long wind descriptions and explanations. Just a note: the concept of being “plugged in” takes on a whole new meaning and not what we know it to mean.

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    Chasing Filthy Lucre - Jarrett Rush

    Table of Contents

    CHASING FILTHY LUCRE

    For Gina

    1

    2

    3

    4

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    CHASING FILTHY LUCRE

    by

    JARRETT RUSH

    PUBLISHED BY:

    Six To One Books and Media

    Copyright © 2011

    For Gina

    She helps me get there and back again.

    This wouldn't have been possible without her pushing me to do it

    then supporting me every step of the way.

    1

    I FOUGHT. NOT BY CHOICE, but necessity.

    The concrete in the basement at Raul’s was damp. That wasn’t unusual. Neither was the smell of mildew. A crowd of no more than fifty stood in a circle around both of us. It was a slow night, and Berger and I had been at it for a few minutes.

    I bounced on the balls of my feet, my hands up near my face. Berger swung and I jumped backward. He missed by inches.  I jabbed my left and bloodied his nose. He shook his head and blinked twice. I followed with a right that Berger blocked. He buried a fist into my stomach. I made an odd coughing and grunting sound. Sweat stuck my long-sleeved t-shirt to my chest. The soles of my black boots squeaked as I danced around the floor.

    The crowd was rowdy and the circle began to close. Berger and I moved apart to force the men to spread back out. We came back together after a moment and I moved in close and got him into a hold, wrapping my hands around the back of his neck and pulled him to me.

    Nice shot, I whispered into his ear. Knocked the wind out of me.

    Couldn’t wait a couple of minutes before drawing blood? he whispered back.

    Small crowd tonight. Wanted to get them riled up.

    Berger pushed me away.

    Then try to bloody me again! he shouted and the crowd whooped and hollered. Berger came toward me, his hands up near his face. He shook his left hand, just enough for me to notice, then swung. I ducked. My uppercut caught Berger on the chin. A right cross sent him stumbling back. The crowd pushed him into the middle of the circle. He wobbled toward me then fell against my chest.

    Nice job, champ. The crowd was shouting and I could barely hear him. I don’t think I can make it much longer. Think they’d be happy to see me fall yet?

    I raised my right arm and waved my hand in a circle. The crowd got louder and I said to Berger, Yeah, we’re good.

    I pushed him off of me and he stumbled to the middle. He struggled to stand and I hit him with a flurry of punches. A right. A left. Another right. Berger’s head snapped back after a final hard left. He fell to the ground and the crowd shouted. A pair of men fought through the mob and grabbed Berger under the arms and dragged him into a back room. I followed, accepting congratulations.

    Once the door shut behind us, the men laid Berger on a couch and one of them waved smelling salts under Berger’s nose. He shook his head and his eyes blinked open.

    Raul stood up from the desk in the corner. He approached with two stacks of cash. Berger’s was bigger than mine since he took the fall.

    Sorry it can’t be more, boys, he said.

    It’s all right. I spoke for the both of us. It pays the bills.

    That’s why I did this, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. 

    I sat with Berger for a few minutes after Raul left. He’d given me the keys and asked me to lock up. We were in the basement below his store, a shop that sold a little of everything but specialized in nothing.

    Sorry that one was so rough, I said to Berger. He'd pushed himself up onto his elbows. I think I got carried away.

    Berger smiled and told me not to worry about it. I’ve taken worse beatings, he said. At least I’m getting paid for it now.

    Berger offered to buy me a late dinner and we left. At the restaurant, he barely fit into the booth, his gut fighting to get between him and the table. I didn't know Berger well, but it was easy to see that he was embarrassed. I tried to say something to break the tension.

    Before you were a fighter, what’d you do? Berger and I had fought in Raul’s league a few times, but he was new. Still working his way up. All I really knew about him was that he could take a beating. That night was the third time I’d laid him out like that.

    Soldier, he said. A lousy one, but I was a soldier in the Army. He studied the menu then laid it to his side. When the government fell and they let us all go I started working the docks over at south bay. Did that for a while and hated it. Started delivering goods for a guy I met working there and that’s how I met Raul.

    You should talk to him about winning. You’re good. Your body blow really rocked me earlier. You don’t need to be his fall guy forever.

    Berger thanked me for the kind words. So, what do you do when you aren’t in the basement?

    Whatever I can to make ends meet, I said.

    Our food arrived – a club sandwich for Berger and a ham sandwich for me. They were served on thin-sliced white bread and mismatched plates that were chipped along the edges and looked like they could use a good scrub. But they were what you’d expect from a place like that. The chairs and tables didn’t match either and the paint on the sign in the window had dripped to the wooden frame.

    Berger took a bite of his sandwich then mumbled with a full mouth, And what did you do before you got started fighting?

    I was a cop. And before that a soldier. Army, too. I looked for the woman who took our order and asked her to bring us two beers.  These are on me, I told Berger. He nodded his thanks then asked more questions.

    "So is

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