Of Fever and Blood

They drove a long time, following small roads across the countryside without passing another vehicle. All during the ride, fat Roman Salaville kept her tight against him. He mashed his filthy lips against her neck, against her hair. She felt the man’s hand slide over her breasts to squeeze them. She said nothing. She just cried, painful tears. They tasted like blood.

And now they were going to kill her. It was so clear.

Eloise heard a noise. It snapped her to the present.

Footsteps, in the adjoining room.

Then a faint creaking.

She turned her head.

The door on the right was opening slowly. The hinges groaned.

Eloise stiffened.

It wasn’t the Salavilles.

It was an animal.

It pushed its head through the door, and then its smooth figure slithered into the room.

A dog. That’s what Eloise thought at first. The beast looked like a dog, black and scrawny, its hair mangy, its eyes like embers.

But it wasn’t a dog.

Not at all.

The wolf slinked closer.

She could smell its fetid breath, see its yellow fangs.

The beast’s small red eyes glared at her, as though they contained all the evil in the world. In their depths, Eloise recognized the same spark of insanity that burned in Roman Salaville’s eyes.

She closed her eyes and stiffened.

The animal did not attack her.

She opened her eyes.

There was no trace of the canine in the room anymore. The door was ajar.

A hallucination? Was that it? Were her eyes playing a trick on her? Was it a waking dream? Either way, it was the very first time she had ever experienced anything like that. She had reached her breaking point. If the torture went on for much longer, she was going to lose her mind.

She began to sob again.

At that moment, the door on the left, the one leading to the yard, blew wide open.

The massive outline of Roman Salaville materialized in the doorframe.

In Eloise’s throat, the sob turned into a scream of terror. Now the danger was all too real. She pulled even harder on the straps. She thrashed on the mattress. All in vain.

The man walked toward her, unhurried.

2

The fat man’s suffocating smell assaulted her as he leaned over. Roman Salaville was still wearing the torn shirt, his huge belly straining against the material. But now the shirt was damp, as though it had been spattered with some viscous-red-matter. When she saw him up close, Eloise realized that his face was smeared with the same thick substance. A mask of blood.

His twisted smile looked frozen on his lips.

His eyes were two black chasms.

“You’re next. You’ve been chosen.”

His voice was surprisingly soft. He spoke casually, as though he were making pleasantries.

Behind him, his brother, Claude, entered the room.

Eloise had rarely ever seen Claude. She had passed him at the supermarket twice, maybe three times. The two men bore little resemblance. Roman was fat, while Claude was tall and skinny. And Roman just looked stupid, while Claude radiated pure, intense malice.

Claude Salaville was wearing nothing but blue jeans and combat boots. He was bare chested, and she could see his scrawny ribs that expanded with every breath. He, too, was covered with blood. It looked like he had squirted it on and smeared it all over his torso and arms. He did not have his brother’s drawn smile. No, his eyes held an unappeasable dark flame, burning with the power of hurricanes or wildfire, holding all the unstoppable destruction found in this world.

He raised a glistening hand. Huge drops of bright-red blood dripped on the floor. The stench was horrendous.

“Untie her.”

His brother said nothing. He walked over to the girl and reached for the straps on her ankles.

“Don’t you move. Everything will be fine,” the fat man said.

Eloise clenched her jaw. Damn liar.

Roman Salaville struggled with the ties. He freed her right leg, then her left leg.

For a brief moment, she didn’t dare move. She didn’t dare breathe. She felt her hands being untied in turn. She drew herself into a fetal position, her muscles in knots. A rush of adrenaline muddled her thoughts. A trickle of blood escaped her nostrils, and she broke into a coughing fit.

“You’re going to be a good girl, aren’t you?” Claude said.

He grabbed her to pull her to her feet. But his blood-smeared fingers slipped off her arm.

All of a sudden, Eloise was free. She wasn’t tied down anymore. No one was holding her. It was now or never. She lived, or she died.

She didn’t think. She didn’t have time. She jumped to her feet and took off as fast as she could.

She felt Roman’s hand graze her shoulder. She heard him scream with rage, and then everything happened very fast. She lurched, praying she wouldn’t lose her balance, and left a lock of blond hair in the man’s hand.

She ran.

Claude Salaville shouted, ordering his brother to stop her, quick. Eloise was already nearly at the doorway leading into the house.

She pushed it open and almost slipped, but she managed to grab the frame. She slammed the door behind her and dashed down a hallway, into darkness.

She heard the curses and animal-like screams of the two brothers sprinting after her, almost tearing the door off its hinges in their haste. A vase toppled over as they rushed past it and crashed to the floor.

Eloise Lombard kept running without looking back.

At the end of the hallway was another room. She slammed the door behind her and almost shrieked with joy when she spotted the key in the lock. She turned it, fast.

Almost right away, the door shook on its hinges as the brothers started pounding on the other side.

Eloise moved away as quickly as possible and rushed toward another opening at the far end of the room.

She found herself in another hallway lined with what appeared to be more rooms, all of them steeped in darkness. Every shutter in the house was closed.

She hesitated, trying to make out what was in front of her.

The main part of the house was over there. She could see a kitchen on her right and some sort of living room straight ahead. She could hide anywhere.

But they would eventually find her, wouldn’t they?

What would she do when-sooner or later-she wound up in a room without an exit?

Behind her, they were pounding at the door.

A thought occurred to her. As fast as she could, Eloise retreated to where she had just come from. There was a narrow closet just beside the door the brothers were battering.

She hoped she was small enough to slip in and hide.

She did not have much choice at this point.