The Rain Marches East

By A.G. Maxwell

Some invitations are best left ignored, evil could be lurking just around the corner.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.G. Maxwell
• Release date: Jun 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781732395497

A.G. Maxwell

Just a writer weaving southern tales with a sci-fi twist

Book preview

Chapter 1

Satellites cascaded into the atmosphere like shooting stars, but in a smoke-filled office below, an employee named Roper endured his supervisor’s endless droning about the calamity above.

Roper hunched over in an oak chair. So, I guess I’m taking the fall for the CEO’s mistake, he thought, gliding a hand through his hair. He froze when there was a pause in his supervisor’s voice. My team just updated their orbiting system. The satellites shouldn’t be dropping out of the sky, he said, looking up.

The supervisor grinned. You were actually listening for once, Roper. He sipped his coffee, the major’s oak-leaf rank proudly displayed on the mug. The CEO’s run a diagnostic on the entire system already. This isn’t an update issue. There’s suspicion that someone on your team is responsible for the error. Maybe with malicious intent.

The accusation flamed Roper’s frustration with working a meaningless office job. His life as a soldier was so much more rewarding. Why didn’t I reenlist in the military after my six years were up? he thought, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Cooler, but not calmer, he spoke. I can’t believe I’m hearing this, Lucien. That rich kid’s always tinkering with the satellite data. This isn’t the first time he’s tried to cover up his mistake by blaming my team.

Lucien loosened the tie around his chiseled, onyx neck. How about not referring to the CEO as some rich kid?

Roper reclined in his chair. I don’t resent logical people. I listen to you, don’t I?

Don’t be a Higgins, Lucien said, tapping his cigar, its ashes gently falling like snow into the ashtray.

Higgins. He's either implying that I'm being aloof or lying. I'll go with aloof since I'm not much of a liar. Huh. If I hadn’t heard this a million times, I never would've picked up on the major's secret meaning, thought Roper, shaking his head. I’m not a Higgins, and you know that from our time in the service together. I get things done. The CEO’s seriously overstepped his authority this time.

Lucien shifted in his chair, his elbows resting on his desk. The boss built this company from the ground up and knows a thing or two about satellites. And furthermore, no one is accusing anyone on your team yet.

Roper put his hands behind his head. We’ve thoroughly screened every candidate and selected only the ones with high military clearance. You know they aren’t the problem, Lucien.

Trust is a commodity, and anyone can be bought for the right price, said Lucien, rubbing his index finger against his thumb. You’re too trusting sometimes. This decade-long drought has turned everyone into desperate animals. He put out his cigar. Those idyllic TV neighborhoods from our childhood are long gone now. For your sake, just show more discretion when dealing with your employees—just in case one of them is the bad actor.

Yeah, you’re right, Roper said, his eyes wandering around the dimly lit office. Across from him was a large painting of a log cabin on an estate blanketed by a lush emerald forest. Don’t you find it odd that Theodore requires all managers to hang a painting of his Silver Oak estate in their offices? You would think the CEO would pick a picture of the state capitol building since we’re headquartered in downtown Montgomery.

The CEO is proud of his estate there and the unity between him and the local population that it symbolizes. Many of them still bitter about the military’s raids in their area.

Echoes of the raid on Marshal Creek reverberated in Roper’s ear. Helicopter blades stirred the air and enemy bullets tap-danced on their hulls. Out of all of his military assignments, this was the one that still haunted him. I can still remember the first rocket striking the lead helos. Everything else was a blur after that, he said.

It was a blur for you, but not for me. After the helos set down, me and my battalion took out the lead truck in their convoy, stopping them cold in their tracks. But we were soon pinned down and cut off from the others. Lucien was silent for a moment. If it wasn’t for your superb marksmanship, I might not be here today.

We risked our lives. All for just water, Roper said, folding both arms across his chest.

Lucien’s eyebrows raised. Some water? They were transporting five hundred thousand gallons of it during a nationwide drought. That water was supposed to be for everyone! His breath was labored for a moment and then returned to normal. Look. You should give credit where credit is due. The CEO eased relations between us and them without firing a single shot. He did this by providing them access to water, electricity, and jobs with the Silver Oak Restoration Project. Sometimes, private enterprise is the only real solution.

Sounds like a real saint, said Roper, scratching his neck. You were a natural fit for the military. It’s hard imagining you as a company man.

I have my reasons, Lucien replied. You have to adapt to a changing world. Maybe you should follow my lead. It might do you some good.

Roper sighed. There’s something about civilian life that just seems off to me. Some days it’s hard just getting up in the morning and coming to work.

There’s nothing hard about civilian life. It’s all in your head. Lucien sipped from his mug. Your problem is you think too much. If I was you, I’d probably go cra—

An oscillating ring tone stopped the major mid-speech as a semi-opaque phone call icon hovered in front of him. Inside it was the name Theodore M. Johnson, CEO of Integrated Dynamic Consortium. Lucien looked away from Roper, inserted an earpiece, and tapped the icon. In the still silence, sweat dripped from the major’s chin like melting ice cubes. Something was up.

Roper looked down at the hard-oak floor and noticed animal dander around his feet. Strange. Didn’t know Lucien had a dog.

Lucien smacked his desk and shouted, I’ll let him know! He stared out the tinted office window. Do you know how much one of those satellites costs? he asked with a furrowed brow.

Roper’s head tilted upward. I don’t buy them. I just manage the team that keeps them operational.

And some job you’ve done, Lucien replied, pressing a video icon on the holographic screen above his desk. Video loops of the fiery chaos in the atmosphere above streamed on the wall. Your mistake has cost a few people their jobs. His teeth were clenched. I should’ve hired a manager with a tech background. Not someone with a useless liberal arts degree.

Roper smirked. You know the real reason you hired me. You trust me.

Lucien scratched the faded wound on his throat. You need to man-up and accept your team’s mistake.

With his eyes on the wound, Roper thought, The man I saved at Marshal Creek isn’t the same one standing in front of me. Civilian life has ruined another good soldier. I should get out of here, so I can avoid giving him any more problems. He pointed at the clock on the wall. You’re right, Lucien. I should get back to my team and check on their progress.

You’re going nowhere, Corporal, said Lucien, tapping a security camera icon and accessing a video stream from the engineer’s office. He huffed. Look, your current attitude has put you in the CEO’s crosshairs. You need to watch what you say about the CEO to your subordinates. Word travels fast around here.

Maybe if the CEO wasn’t jet-setting around the world and actually sat down with my team to discuss system issues and work arounds, things would probably run a little smoother around here, said Roper.

He signs our checks, so he has the right to do whatever he wants. Anyway, I stuck my neck out for you to get you this job. You’re going to get fired if you keep this up.

I guess being an overpaid company man has made me soft. I just don’t have the same motivation that I had when I was in the military, especially for some island-hopping party animal, replied Roper.

Lucien’s face was like black granite with marbled creases. For a decorated sniper, you really missed the mark today. The CEO’s been listening to our entire conversation through my earpiece. He pulled a severance letter from his desk and tossed it into Roper’s lap. His strained eyes showed his reluctance. I guess I wasn’t being clear enough today. You’re dismissed, soldier. Permanently.

You never know when to stop, thought Roper as he placed the severance letter into his shirt pocket and slowly got up from his chair. The room was as silent as a cemetery at midnight. He drifted like a ghost to his office next door to retrieve two personal items from his desk. He slipped the dog tags over his head and slid the deer-horn bottle opener into his pocket. No more office beers with my staff. That was the best part of my day, he thought as he left the office.

Winding down a metal spiral staircase that cut through the center of the building, Roper arrived to the lobby where he handed his key card to a listless secretary and exited out the narrow lobby’s glass revolving door.

He crossed the street and entered a brick alleyway. His fingers brushed against the thick layer of dust on a windowsill, and small clouds formed around his hand as if he was conjuring a spell. Maybe I should head to the temp agency to see what they have available. I’m not expecting much since this economy’s in a deep recession.

A rustling in the garbage over by the dumpster got his attention. A group of drifters were huddled around it, munching on some thrown-out crackers and sipping on some half-empty water bottles. They had rearranged the IDC letters on the dumpster into something a bit lewd. A wiry man with skin that blended seamlessly with the surrounding brick ruffled his patchwork coat. Well, if it isn’t a bigwig from IDC coming to bother us, the man jeered in a strong Southern drawl. We ain’t causing any trouble, so you can scuttle back to your office and let us be.

Former bigwig, Roper answered, pulling out his severance check. I just got fired.

The homeless man chuckled. I’ve been fired countless times, by countless morons. It never phases me. He pulled out a tarnished flask and sipped on it, his attention drifting away.

Any one of us could be him, given circumstances out of our control, Roper thought, venturing further down the alleyway. A steady metal clank joined him with each stride. The source finally revealed itself at the end of the alley—a parked white SUV with a boxy 1980s style. This vehicle was the spitting image of the one that had been driven by his grandfather when Roper was younger. Someone must be a car collector because this model isn’t easy to find, he thought.

Steam seeped from under the hood as a petite woman filled the radiator with water. Her scarlet locks swayed like wind chimes in the gentle breeze. Roper was speechless in the presence of such celestial beauty.

She looked up. Do you need a ride, sugar? she said with a honey-dipped Southern accent.

Roper scratched his head. I don’t live that far away. I think I’ll walk. His stomach was tied in knots. Don’t be stupid. She wants you to say yes, he thought.

She walked over to him. You’re sure? I wouldn’t mind the company.

His hands slipped into his pockets to hide his nervousness. Yeah, sure, he managed to get out. He strolled over to the vehicle’s engine and marveled at its simplistic design. I haven’t seen a model like this since forever.

Me or the car? she replied.

Roper awkwardly laughed. My grandfather used to drive me around in this exact model.

She slammed down the hood and wiped her slightly dirty hands on her jeans. Well, let’s take a drive down memory lane, stud. Minus your grandfather, of course, she said, tossing the keys to him.

Are you sure? You don’t even know me, replied Roper.

The name’s Sarah, she said, pressing her finger on his severance letter. And you’re Roper, so let’s go.

Roper climbed into the driver’s seat and started up the car as Sarah jumped in the passenger side. Where are we going? he asked.

She pulled a one-liter bottle of whiskey from behind her seat. Your place, if you don’t mind. My house is being renovated right now. The ivory grip of her revolver protruded from her shoulder holster. SJC was etched in glaring red letters on the butt of the gun.

She caught Roper checking out her piece, so she unholstered it. This is the best insurance money can buy. I may look sweet, but I can bite like a copperhead if I need to.

How about putting that away, Calamity Jane, replied Roper as he pulled away from the curb and drove off.

She smiled, holstered the gun, and kicked her work boots up onto the dash. You don’t sound like you’re from around here.

Not originally. My father was in the military, so my family moved around a lot when I was little, hence, living in the South without the accent, said Roper. Rectangular white government buildings stretched along the downtown road. A lone jogger was pounding the sidewalk next to them. It was Theodore M. Johnson, his now ex-boss. Roper’s jaw clenched.

Sarah’s hand gently glided across his forearm in a nurturing manner. Tell me what happened. It’s better out than in. That’s what my grandfather always says.

Roper sighed. I had a job with IDC until I ran my mouth about that jogger over there. He canned me for it.

At least you have the courage to say what’s on your mind, she replied. A soldier like yourself shouldn’t take BS from any civilian.

Roper’s eyebrows arched up. I’ve never said anything about being a soldier. We just met.

I can just tell. It’s how you present yourself. She rubbed his bicep. You’re still in pretty good shape, like you’re fresh out of basic.

Roper grinned. I guess I can’t turn it off, he said, rolling down the driver’s-side window and hanging his elbow out it. Dry air gusted into the SUV from the direction of a parched field nestled between a slew of fire-damaged homes. It looks like some people collected the insurance money and ran, he said.

Sarah yawned. They’ll regret it once this city finds its legs again.

Right. And you’ll open a water park in the middle of the desert.

Never say never, Sarah mumbled, under her breath. A billboard of a law firm appeared up ahead. A truck had crashed into its pole. The heavily corroded vehicle gave the impression it had been there for a while. She said, I can’t believe no one’s scrapped that truck already. It’s a shame just leaving money on the side of the road like that.

Roper’s eyes glanced at the severance check in his pocket before returning to the road. I agree. If I had something to pull it with, I would’ve hauled it to the junkyard by now.

I have a trailer at my house, Sarah said, with a wink. Since you’re unemployed, I bet you wouldn’t mind helping me load it onto my trailer. I’ll split the money with you, fifty-fifty. She chuckled sweetly.

Her laugh was a comforting melody to Roper, soothing his nerves after a difficult day. He nodded and said, I like it here. It’s quiet. I’m not much of a people person. He pulled up to a boxy home and parked in its wide driveway. My aunt’s house used to be worth something back in the day, but now, she’d be lucky to get anything for it. She and most of the downtown residents left to work up north, where the jobs are still plentiful. The only real employer left here is IDC, he said, with a sigh. The drought ruined this city.

Things will get better, Sarah said, retrieving the whiskey bottle from the vehicle. But, to be honest, it sounds like you need a drink.

Roper looked into her calm hazel eyes. What I wouldn’t give to be as cheerful and optimistic as you are in this decay, he thought, turning to the front door and pressing the home icon on a watch-like device around his wrist.

You actually wear your Citizen Nexus Device? she said.

You don’t? Roper replied, surprised.

Sarah shook her head. I don’t like being tracked by the government if I can help it.

The front door opened, and they entered the tight foyer. An inhouse digital assistant was activated, and compact bronze machines tidied up the house as a circular device of the same color shot across the ceiling and filled the room with holographic plants and a playful Labrador. The assistant spoke in a soft, feminine voice. Would you like me to create a pet for your guest?

Sarah sharply interjected. That won’t be necessary. ANA 13995. All the devices returned to their charge stations in the tan walls, and the inhouse digital assistant slowly powered down.

She turned off my Automated Neighborhood Assistant. I didn’t think that was possible, thought Roper, staring at this mysterious woman in front of him.

You’re wondering how I turned off your ANA? It’s simple. You never changed the default shutdown password, said Sarah.

There’s a shutdown password? No one ever turns them off, he thought as they both strolled into the kitchen.

Sarah opened the refrigerator. Ketchup and eggs . . . two essential items for every bachelor pad. She moved on to the freezer and removed a tiny bucket of ice from it before shutting the doors. This home is in desperate need of a woman’s touch.

I couldn’t agree more, Roper replied, grabbing two glasses from a dish rack and joining her at the kitchen table. He dropped two ice cubes into each glass and poured just enough whiskey so that it pooled around the ice. When he handed the drink to Sarah, he noticed her eyeing a picture of him and his family on top of an antique bookcase behind him.

She sauntered over to the bookcase and held the picture frame. You have your mom’s awkward smile and your dad’s raven hair.

About the smile. I’m guessing that’s a compliment, so thanks.

It is. Don’t overthink it, she replied.

Twice in one day. Who knows? Maybe the whole world thinks this about me, he thought, swishing the ice cubes in his glass. He leaned back in his chair and observed Sarah combing through the bookcase with a razor-sharp focus. Pages of almanacs, autobiographies, and science journals were flipped and examined in an orderly, but cold manner. Eventually, she tired of this and returned to the table with a book about G.W.