It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood.
Ba-bum. Ba-bum. BA-BUM. BA-BUM.1 Pemulis's heart beat so hard that he felt as if his chest would explode, collapse, and turn to a most distasteful blood-and-gut strewn rubble at any moment. But he could scarcely afford to stop now. Each and every searing, nauseating breath and aching, piercing step made his now-suffocating throat singe with pain and his oxygen-deprived muscles scream in abhorrent agony. Yet still he pushed forth. It was autumn. Dusk. Enough light that when he looked up the sky still shone a navy blue, but when he looked forward and down to navigate his escape through the leaf-covered woods he could barely make out rocks, roots, crevasses, mushrooms, rats, snakes, dead branches, and other impediments and potentially lethal hazards that lay in his way. He could not afford to glance back so he put all of his power and all of his concentration into running running running as fast as his weary spent legs possibly could move him. Minutes ago fight-or-flight had set in. But it was short lived; there is no fighting a pack of scorned vengeful burning demonic wolves.
Pemulis all of a sudden remarked an agrestic cottage-like dwelling ahead and a brief and strangely smug smile came to his face. He now imagined that -- just maybe -- it was possible that he might be OK. He could hear the burning wolves2 gaining on him, however, and as he rounded a corner towards beautiful safety suddenly his ankle was caught under a branch and he began to fly feverishly forward. His hands managed to break his fall but the momentum was too much and as his forehead smashed suddenly and swiftly against a rock-hard ground, the first wolf pounced. The smell of burnt flesh and cooked blood was nauseating. As the next wolf arrived, seemingly dead from its zombie-like eyes yet still ready to snap his neck in a fiery attack, he awoke with a lunging start, covered in sweat, heart beating at near 200 beats per minute. It was the nineteenth night in a row that Pemulis had dreamt the same dream.
Grenoble had begun to feel like a home for Pemulis and Joelle. After a relaxing summer on the Côte d'Azure, Pemulis had returned to work, refreshed and excited for his new position. A promotion -- including a healthy bonus -- had been offered to him in the Spring and following very little reflection -- very little was needed -- P&J made the decision to stay in the Grenoble area and start a family. With the bonus, and with thoughts of requiring more space, they purchased an old seventeenth-century farm house east of Grenoble not far from Meylan. The house itself was in fair condition following an un-charming yet decent and complete renovation some time in the last half century. Some work would be required but it was in a livable state and repairs could be made when money and time became available. There was no hurry.
The highlight for Joelle was a 2-acre yard that extended from the back porch, gently down a soft hill, to the river Isère. Very little effort would be required to turn a sizable portion of the property into a large fruit and vegetable garden. They would be happy here, she thought. On the first night after they received the keys, Pemulis came home from work early with a bottle of Champagne Marquis de Sade that he'd been saving at work. POP! As they sat down to enjoy the wine produced from some of the finest grapes in all of their adopted-country, a lone wolf could be heard howling in the distance. "Amazing," Joelle stated. "I knew that wolves had been reintroduced to the Vercors recently, but I'm shocked that you can hear them all the way out here; we really are back in the nature. We're going to love it here." A shiver tursed down Pemulis's spine.
Following another painfully restless night, Pemulis -- in a zombie-like state -- downed 2 Syntia (TM)-produced espressos and set off for work. The farmhouse was less than 2 km from the Chateau de Maupertuis that housed the ZQ(Pi) Research Centre, and Pemulis had been unhurriedly making his way to work each morning by foot. Joelle's plans for the day were to begin turning a large portion of the yard into a garden. She rinsed some dishes, found a big old straw hat to protect herself from the sun, grabbed a shovel, and set to work.
When Joelle hit the first bone, she did not think much of it. Strange, she thought, ... , what is this? The bone itself was around a foot long and could have formed the upper part of an animal's leg. She tossed the bone aside and returned to her task. After two hours of work, the outline of a garden began to emerge. Shortly before Joelle planned to take her first break of the day, her shovel struck yet another bone; this time, an even larger one. She picked up the bone and inspected it. Again it seemed that it could have been part of a fairly large animal's leg. Strangely, the bone smelled strongly of smoke and seared flesh. As she inspected it more carefully, it appeared that the bone itself was charred; the lower side was entirely covered in a crusted black soot.
When Pemulis arrived home later that day, he found Joelle shaking, sitting in a crumpled ball on the floor, in a corner of the kitchen. She'd gone mad; "wolves!", she cried! "Burning wolves back for revenge!!!". Yikes, thought Pemulis, she's clearly had a little too much to drink. And she's burned something in the oven. Smoke started to fill the room. "Joelle," he began, "what the hell's going on? You can't forget about a roast in the oven and drink yourself into a..." Just then, a pack of angry wolves burst through the front door that he had carelessly left ajar. The wolves were on fire, just as in his dreams. The wolves attacked, and quickly, Pemulis and Joelle were no more.
It was a sunny day in Grenoble just five weeks after the attack. Aurélie Bouchard received a call at the agence immobilière where she worked from a young couple. They were interested in moving out of the city to start a family. An old farm house, perhaps...
1 Un coeur qui bat (si ce n'était pas évident).
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2 Oui, ils étaient vraiment en feu.
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