Xavier didn’t need to be told twice. Heading for the door he’d exited through, he knew that there were times to fight and times to send for help. If Danny – ex-marines, weightlifter, and all-round powerhouse – couldn’t fight off the lunatic, then he didn’t know who could. He looked around for signs of anyone else coming to help as he headed for the ramp. Danny was making plenty of noise, but there was a main road nearby, drowning the sounds of the fight, and it was night-time in an industrial area. Typically, the gym was well soundproofed to keep the noise in. It hadn’t occurred to Xavier until then that the soundproofing would work both ways.

‘Come on then, you mother …’ Danny growled.

The man didn’t make a sound, instead sidestepping around Danny’s chair and neatly avoiding contact. Not attempting to engage in a fight. It wasn’t a general attack then, Xavier realised, and it certainly hadn’t been a prank. Whoever the man was, he had come for him and him alone.

He pushed forward, his right wheel grating and catching. Xavier leaned down to rectify the problem. There was damage, presumably from when he’d landed too hard after tipping. He reached into his pocket for his mobile, knowing as he did so that he’d left it in his sports bag and not yet retrieved it. The bag lay in the alleyway the other side of the man, who was staring blankly at Danny, entirely unconcerned.

Danny rushed in, fist smashing into the man’s abdomen and issuing a battle cry worthy of the fiercest Highlander. The attacker folded slightly but didn’t crumble. Danny’s mouth opened, and Xavier could see his friend trying to process what had happened. His fist was an unstoppable force. Their team told jokes about it. It had become something of a legend. And the man was little more than a reed. Even in the dark and with a jacket on, his build was insubstantial.

The man looked Xavier in the eyes as if Danny weren’t there at all and walked towards him again. Steady but unrushed. Passing under one of the remaining pools of light, his face became clearer and Xavier finally recognised him for what he was. The skeletal body, sunken eyes and stark cheekbones. The sense that nothing earthly could touch him.

Death had arrived. He might be wearing jeans and a denim jacket, but there was no mistaking the lack of humanity in that gaze.