Chapter twenty-six
In normal times, Saint Seurin; a residential neighborhood close to the Bordeaux City Center was always calm and quiet with little activities and traffic in the mid-afternoon time. Today, however, the serenity and derelictness on her street were strangely unusual, as there was no notable pulse of life about the narrow paved streets. The many restaurants and boutiques shopfronts usually open and frequented by locals and tourists were closed and shut. The only sign of life on the street is a flock of pigeons foregathered in a part of the street.
Life had fled the street the moment a man had slumped right off his feet to the ground. And it had taken but seconds afterward for all within a one-mile radius to know why. The moment the pavement beneath the man was awashed with
