{"id":260126,"date":"2026-07-13T17:27:45","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T14:27:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/fate-of-the-fallen-a-black-bird-1\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T17:27:45","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T14:27:45","slug":"fate-of-the-fallen-a-black-bird-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/fate-of-the-fallen-a-black-bird-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Fate Of The Fallen – A Black Bird (1)"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\u201cSpud?\u201d she echoed, befuddled. \u201cThat\u2019s an interesting name. Is it short for Potato?\u201d He seemed to consider this. His brows knitted together as he looked up at the cloudy sky. \u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d \u201cWell Spud,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m looking for someone. Think you can help me out?\u201d \u201cWho are you looking for?\u201d \u201cHis name is Chase Jackson. Do you know him?\u201d Spud stopped. \u201cThat\u2019s my brother!\u201d His voice came out in a squeak as he jumped on the spot.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, I\u2019ll show you.\u201d Blake didn\u2019t realise Chase had a brother. In fact, she only knew he had a dad, and that was due to their frequent visits to the diner together. She\u2019d never thought about his family life before, she realised. Blake jogged to keep up with Spud\u2014he ran ahead, weaving around the spectators and cabins. The other kids chased after them, but they didn\u2019t get too close, almost as if they were afraid Blake would bite them.<\/p>\n

Spud veered onto a muddy lane between two houses. He was out of sight by the time she reached the muddy alleyway. Her white jeans were caked in brown slime up to her calves when she got to the end of the lane and saw one house looming ahead.<\/p>\n

It was separate from the others. Higher up on a hardened hill\u2014a double- story terrace house with a chipped porch. Compared to the other houses on the lot, it was well-cared for. A few of the windows were new and the front door was sanded. On the patchy lawn at the front of the house were two motorcycles.<\/p>\n

It was there that Spud rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. He stepped to the side, revealing Chase Jackson\u2019s back. Chase crouched down beside his motorbike. He appeared to be replacing parts.<\/p>\n

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No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission\u2014this includes scanning and\/or unauthorised distribution\u2014except in case of brief quotations used in reviews and\/or academic articles, in which case quotations are permitted. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, whether alive or dead, is purely coincidental. Names, characters, incidents, and places are all products of the author\u2019s imagination. Fate of the Lost Imprint: Independently published OceanofPDF.com FATE OF THE LOST A.<\/p>\n

Blackbird OceanofPDF.com 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 OceanofPDF.com FATE of the FALLEN OceanofPDF.com 1 Blake Harper managed to squeeze her crusty Jeep into a tight spot near Town Hall, then hurried up an alleyway that led to a sun-scorched diner. Frank\u2019s Diner was one of the few places in the small swamp town of Belle- Vue to find legal work, and she\u2019d worked there since her junior year. When she pushed inside, she spotted Frank counting money at the cash register on the bar.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re late!\u201d barked Frank. He didn\u2019t look up from the stacks of money. \u201cTen minutes. Consider it docked off your pay.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m early,\u201d said Blake. \u201cI don\u2019t start for another fifteen minutes.\u201d He glanced up at the plastic clock above the door. \u201cWell, since you\u2019re here, you can get started on those dishes out back. We got hammered today.\u201d \u201cWhatever,\u201d she mumbled. Frank wouldn\u2019t pay her for the early start, but if she declined he would slash her shifts.<\/p>\n

Biting her tongue, she dipped under the bench and pushed through the swing doors to the kitchen. The kitchen wasn\u2019t much easier on the eyes than the diner itself. Where there weren\u2019t red and black tiles blinding her, there were moss patches on the floor to be scrubbed, and stacks of dishes sloped in the sink.<\/p>\n

The weekend cook, Jimmy, chopped vegetables on the metal counter. Flora, a middle-aged mother of three from the other side of town\u2014the bayous\u2014picked at stale chips by the lockers. \u201cWhat\u2019s cooking, Jimmy?\u201d Blake sniffed in the direction of a bubbling pot on the stovetop. \u201cSmells good.\u201d \u201cShrimp stew surprise,\u201d he said, flashing her a crooked grin. Most of his teeth had been lost over the years in bar fights. \u201cWant some?\u201d \u201cMaybe later.\u201d As a waitress there, she knew better than to try anything with the words \u2018shrimp\u2019 or \u2018surprise\u2019 attached to it, unless she wanted to be curled over a toilet for days.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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