Author/Uploaded by Jayden Jelso
Half-TitleFull-TitleContentsText InsertText InsertText InsertOne - Chapter OneTwo - Chapter TwoThree - Chapter ThreeFour - Chapter FourFive - Chapter FiveSix - Chapter SixSeven - Chapter SevenEight - Chapter EightNine - Chapter NineTen - Chapter TenEleven - Chapter ElevenTwelve - Chapter TwelveThirteen - Chapter ThirteenFourteen - Chapter FourteenFifteen - Chapter FifteenSixteen - Chapter SixteenS...
Half-TitleFull-TitleContentsText InsertText InsertText InsertOne - Chapter OneTwo - Chapter TwoThree - Chapter ThreeFour - Chapter FourFive - Chapter FiveSix - Chapter SixSeven - Chapter SevenEight - Chapter EightNine - Chapter NineTen - Chapter TenEleven - Chapter ElevenTwelve - Chapter TwelveThirteen - Chapter ThirteenFourteen - Chapter FourteenFifteen - Chapter FifteenSixteen - Chapter SixteenSeventeen - Chapter SeventeenEighteen - Chapter EighteenNineteen - Chapter NineteenTwenty - AcknowledgementsTwenty-One - About The Author Guide Cover Table Of Contents Title Page Talon Talon Jayden Jelso Jayden Jelso Contents text insert text insert text insert One CHAPTER ONE Two CHAPTER TWO Three CHAPTER THREE Four CHAPTER FOUR Five CHAPTER FIVE Six CHAPTER SIX Seven CHAPTER SEVEN Eight CHAPTER EIGHT Nine CHAPTER NINE Ten CHAPTER TEN Eleven CHAPTER ELEVEN Twelve CHAPTER TWELVE Thirteen CHAPTER THIRTEEN Fourteen CHAPTER FOURTEEN Fifteen CHAPTER FIFTEEN Sixteen CHAPTER SIXTEEN Seventeen CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Eighteen CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Nineteen CHAPTER NINETEEN Twenty ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Twenty-One ABOUT THE AUTHOR Talon By Jayden Jelso This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawnfrom the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblanceto actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2023 by Jayden Jelso All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever withoutpermission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles andreviews. “During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.” ~ George Orwell One CHAPTER ONE MAY 1ST, 2492 The morning sun beat down on the cragged streets of Borough IV, and the sounds of a hovercar’s whirring engine filled Talon’s ears as he crouched behind the wall of the tavern. He blinked the stinging dust out of his eyes, sighed, and shoved a hand through his hair, the heat of the day making sweat appear on the back of his neck. He peeked around the corner, gazing at the drunken man standing at the tavern’s entrance. Len couldn’t see him, and Talon wanted to keep it that way. He couldn’t afford being extorted today. Not unless he wanted breakfast. Boredom flooded the fifteen-year-old’s mind as he leaned his back against the wall, straightening the collar of his black overcoat. Alger stood close by on his four furry legs, his soft muzzle buried in an overgrown weed sprouting from a crevice in the dirty sidewalk. Talon’s dog trotted up to him, a scrap of greasy paper resting in his mouth. “Where’d you get that?” Talon asked, wrenching the paper from Alger’s jaws and tossing it aside. “That’s gross… don’t eat things like that.” Alger whined. “Shh,” Talon whispered. “Len’s over there. I don’t want him to see me.” His dog ceased the noise immediately. Even Alger knew how annoying Len was. Talon peered around the wall once more, painfully bumping his reddish nose on the rough corner. Len cast his extinguished cigarette onto the street before clumsily stumbling off in the other direction. “Okay, buddy,” Talon beckoned, “let’s go.” He stood, brushing dust off his black pants, and Alger followed him into the tavern. The wood planks creaked underneath Talon’s boots and the large, cobweb covered windows let morning sunlight pour in. A few old tables stood here and there, accompanied by metal stools. Josef, the bartender, stood behind the stomach-high counter, cleaning a misshapen glass with a towel. Despite having an unwarranted dislike of him, Talon thought he was rather welcoming, a rare quality in people these days. “Hey, Talon,” he greeted with a smile when he saw the boy. “What can I get you?” Talon shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “Anything new?” “Not much… for you at least,” Josef replied. “Same old, same old. Coffee, water.” “I’ll take the coffee,” Talon chose. Josef nodded, retrieving a white mug from the rack above the counter. Talon sat on one of the metal stools at the bar