Back Wild Dog
Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. Part I
  3. July 1914
  4. Spring 2017
  5. August 1914
  6. Spring 2017
  7. August 1914
  8. August 2017
  9. August 1914
  10. August 2017
  11. August 1914
  12. August 2017
  13. August 1914
  14. August 2017
  15. August 1914
  16. August 2017
  17. September 1914
  18. August 2017
  19. Part II
  20. September 1914
  21. August 2017
  22. September 1914
  23. August 2017
  24. September 1914
  25. August 2017
  26. September 1914
  27. August 2017
  28. October 1914
  29. August 2017
  30. October 1914
  31. August 2017
  32. October 1914
  33. August 2017
  34. October 1914
  35. August 2017
  36. October 1914
  37. August 2017
  38. May 1915
  39. August 2017
  40. May 1915
  41. August 2017
  42. May 1915
  43. August 2017
  44. Part III
  45. August 2017
  46. May 1915
  47. August 2017
  48. May 1915
  49. August 2017
  50. June 1915
  51. August 2017
  52. July 1915
  53. August 2017
  54. July 1915
  55. August 2017
  56. July 1915
  57. August 2017
  58. July 1915
  59. August 2017
  60. July 1915
  61. August 2017
  62. July 1915
  63. August 2017
  64. Epilogue

He got up to look out of the window, gazing in the direction where they had seen the yellow eyes earlier, eyes too far apart to belong to a cat. He couldn’t see anything, and yet the noises continued, sounding like footsteps muffled by the grass, heavy footsteps, coming from the very bottom of the valley. Franck refused to be frightened. He was not going to spend three weeks here; he would never be able to stand it for that long; he was not interested in this type of holiday. Tomorrow morning, he would find a town where there were people and shops to buy the papers and, more importantly, a bistro where he could sit and connect to the Wi-Fi … That was all he wanted: to find somewhere civilised. Perhaps he would even make up an excuse to go back to Paris, unless a genuine reason forced him to return anyway. Liem and Travis had not taken holiday; they would be sleeping peacefully in an air-conditioned room in Paris, with no creaking or other noises. He was the only one panicking in the darkness in the middle of nowhere. Standing there on high alert, surrounded by strange noises and scared stiff, mirrored what was going on in his professional life. He was a producer whose last two films had been flops; TV networks and banks no longer trusted him, and vultures were circling around him – ambitious young men ready to swoop and buy up his film library, knowing very well that he needed the money …

Now there were not merely noises, but actual movements below, countless heavy footsteps thudding in all directions. He didn’t turn on his headlamp for fear of showing he was there, but it was clear that all kinds of night creatures were moving around. It had to be animals and not humans, large animals pawing the ground or scratching at the earth. He thought about waking Lise so she could hear it. It was an impressive sound, of wild animals emerging from the woods to fight or gather together. He already knew that when he told her about this tomorrow, she would not believe him. But if he woke her up right now, she might panic and then they would both be frightened, and that would be worse.