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somewhere hot and sunny, and they had not given any thought to how much chillier it would be when they got home. They were both in shorts and t-shirts, and were shivering slightly.

  Walking over to the counter he memorised the car’s license plate, and as many other details about the car and its occupants, as he could before leaning over the counter to activate the pump. He didn’t think the couple were likely to drive off without paying for their fuel, but just in case they did, it was helpful to have as much information as possible to give to the police. When he straightened up, Julian saw that the woman was at the night hatch, waiting for him to walk round and serve her - that was something he wasn’t inclined to do since the door was open, and he indicated as much, gesturing for her to come in.

  “I can’t believe you’re open at this time of night,” the young lady said the moment she was through the door. “In this area I expected you to have the door locked up, and for you to be serving through the hatch.”

  “It’s more trouble than it’s worth to do things that way,” Julian told her. “If I served through the hatch rather than letting people in, I’d have every drunken idiot who came by sending me all round the shop for things they don’t want just for the fun of it.” By that time, he had made it round the counter to the till, from there he could keep an eye on the car and on the lady in the shop, just in case she should turn out not to be as ordinary and innocent as she seemed.

  The guy was just finishing with the pump when Julian’s attention was drawn away from him by two figures that started across the forecourt; he had no difficulty recognising the two new figures, they were locals he saw far more often than he wanted to. Harry and Adam were both in their mid-twenties, and liked to get off their faces on whatever they could get their hands on, before going out looking for what they called fun – fun which by most other people’s standards was cruel and sadistic behaviour.

  Gauging the distances, he realised that the two troublemakers were going to reach the door at about the same time as the man who had just finished filling his car; that meant he couldn’t just lock the door and avoid dealing with whatever trouble they were planning on making, which was what he usually preferred to do.

  By the time the three of them reached the door, only a few steps apart, the lady had finished her shopping and was waiting for her boyfriend to join her, that was when the trouble started. With the door closed Julian couldn’t hear what was said, but he clearly saw Adam, who was the smaller of the two troublemakers, shove the boyfriend, and he immediately hurried out from behind the counter while the lady looked on, not knowing what to say or do.

  “…think yer better than us? We was here first, but you fink it’s alright to barge in front; you always this rude, you ignorant prick?” The man had the door open before Julian could get there, enabling him to catch part of what the troublemakers were saying.

  Stepping past the man, Julian placed himself in the doorway, preventing the two from entering. “You’re barred,” he told them both forcefully, his hands on the doorframe so there was no way for them to try and push past him. “You’ve both been told about harassing the customers; now bugger off and find your ‘fun’ somewhere else.” He needed only a glance at their faces to tell both Adam and Harry were on something – they looked even more out of it than they usually did. Despite that, he would never have guessed at what was going to happen next.

  In a move faster than Julian would have thought possible, given how unfocused were his eyes, and his general appearance of being only barely aware of where he was and what was going on, Adam plunged a hand into his pocket. When it came out he was clutching a kitchen knife that looked too big to have been hidden in the pocket.

  As fast as the drugged up troublemaker was, Julian was faster, he managed to twist himself to one side, avoiding the long blade that was stabbed towards him. At the same time, he grabbed Adam’s wrist and smashed his fist down on the elbow, causing him to scream in pain as the bone was shattered. Certain that Adam was no longer an immediate threat, Julian shoved him back out of the way, doing so with enough force to make him stumble, as he turned to confront Harry. He ignored the scream of terror that came from the lady by the counter.

  The report from the gun, which he saw in the same moment that it was fired, all but deafened Julian, not that being deafened was a major concern given that the bullet slammed into his chest with the force of a sledgehammer. He was shot twice more, though he had no idea about that, the impact from the first lifted him off his feet and threw him backwards; he only flew for a couple of feet but it was far enough for him to crash into a promotional display and hit his head, knocking him out.

  It was dark when Julian opened his eyes, so dark that even his sensitive eyes couldn’t see a thing, and he could feel pain in his chest. The pain radiated from three distinct locations, which told him that he had been shot twice more after the impact with the promotional stand, and he was glad he had been spared the immediate pain of the injuries because he was unconscious.

  While the pain in his chest and gut was unpleasant, he could cope with it - he had an exceptionally high pain threshold. He pushed it from his mind as he attempted to figure out where he was, and why he was unable to see anything. Lifting his hand, he immediately came into contact with something cold and plastic. After a minute or so of investigating with his hands, Julian was sure he knew where he was, and why he couldn’t see anything, and he couldn’t help but find the situation somewhat amusing, even if at the same time it was annoying. He was certain that the plastic he could feel all around him was a body bag, and the reason he was cooler than he really liked was because he was in cold storage in the local morgue.

  He could easily imagine how it had been concluded that he was dead when his body was checked – no life signs and three bullet wounds would have convinced anyone; it was even technically accurate since he wasn’t really alive anymore.

  He took hold of the heavy plastic with both hands, it wasn’t easy to get a grip on it but after a bit of work he managed, and gave a sharp wrench. The plastic was strong, but he was stronger, and it tore, not much, but enough to enable him to get his fingers into the gap. With a better grip he was able to tear a hole in it that ran the full length of his body, which enabled himself to wriggle out, though that was only the first part of his escape completed. Free from the bag, he reached out with his hands to try and determine where the door was - it only took him a few moments to determine that the door was by his head. Knowing where the ‘exit’ was left him with just one problem, actually exiting.

  Since the storage freezer – he had no idea what it was actually called, and he didn’t really care just then – was designed to hold a person much larger than himself, Julian had no difficulty turning himself over so he was on his belly and facing the door, which he could feel, if not see. From that position he attempted to punch open the door, hitting it as hard as he could, which wasn’t very hard, certainly not hard enough to be successful; he knew that he could punch harder normally, but he was weakened by his wounds, and his position robbed him of the ability to punch effectively.

  After trying four times, without success, he gave up punching the door and tried to think of another way to free himself. His options were limited, nonetheless he was confident that he would manage to get himself free, though the only method he could think of for getting the door open, other than punching it, was kicking it, and he was the wrong way round for that.

  It took some contortions, and a few knocks, which increased the pain from his injuries, for Julian to turn his body round in the cramped confines, and he had to take a breather when he was done. He didn’t allow himself to rest for too long, however; he sensed that he didn’t have much time left before dawn would break.

  He quickly determined that the change in attack was a good idea; on his second, powerful kick he felt the door give, and with the third it burst wide open. The door flew back with enough force to hit something with a loud crash, and he heard the sound of rapidly approaching foo
tsteps as he scrambled out of the freezer. He had just made it to his feet when overhead lights blazed on, momentarily blinding.

  “Y-you’re s-supposed to be d-dead.” A voice stammered from somewhere off to Julian’s right and he quickly turned in that direction, blinking his eyes to accustom them to the increase in light.

  What Julian saw, when he got his eyes working properly again, was a thin man in his early thirties, who appeared to be frozen in the doorway with one hand on the light switch and a shocked expression on his face. Julian looked the man up and down for a moment before he spoke. “I am dead,” he said finally, smiling evilly. “Tell me, are you a fan of horror?”

  The only response the mortuary assistant could make was to nod his head as he stared dumbly at the man who had just declared himself to be dead, and who was apparently oblivious to the three gunshot wounds in his chest and gut.

  “Then I think you’re going to love this.” Julian bared his teeth to reveal a pair of pointed fangs and sprang forward.

  Even if he hadn’t been too shocked and scared to move, the mortuary assistant would not have been able to escape, Julian was too quick. In an instant he was