It was only when he got back to the Bedford that Igor remembered he hadn’t locked the kitchen door before he shot up to his room to meet with Catarina, and although he assumed Karen would have done it for him, he thought he better check it out as soon as he got back. Sure enough, the door was unlocked, so he turned the key and slid the bolt into place. After that, he checked nothing was missing from the walk-in chiller. Satisfied that everything seemed to be in place, he turned around to leave just as the door slammed shut in his face.








 
 

Igor had no idea how long it would take for his body temperature to drop to the point when hypothermia set in, or indeed how long it would take for the oxygen to run out, but he knew one thing for sure. He wouldn’t last until seven in the morning when his absence would be noticed by either Laura when she came down to reception, or the first guest who arrived looking for their breakfast at seven-thirty when the dining room opened.
 
     He and Karen had often joked about the antiquated walk-in chiller and the fact it couldn’t be opened from the inside. Karen had even suggested she’d lock him in it to ‘cool’ him down from time to time when something happened in the kitchen that had him running around like a demented warthog as he let rip with a stream of Polish profanities. Never for a moment had he thought the joke could actually come to fruition. Now he was trapped in an eight by ten tomb, with no light or means to escape, and the reality of it was deadly serious.
 
     ‘IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE?’ he shouted at the top of his voice two stunned seconds after the door shut.
 
     Obviously not. Even if they were, the insulation required to keep the chiller at the correct temperature meant his coffin was soundproofed as well. The only connection to the outside world was the fan shaft situated on the back wall, and that vented out to the carpark at the back of the building. Even if he could open it up, and that was a big if, there would be nobody out there who could hear him. That said, did he have any other option but to try? Although he’d only been in there for ten minutes, he was already beginning to feel the cold seeping through his body because he was only wearing the tee-shirt and jeans he’d thrown on to walk Catarina home. With no sleeves to protect him, the hairs on his arms had already arched over the goose bumps on his skin in an attempt to trap his body heat. As his fingers began to numb, Igor tentatively moved to the back of the chiller and felt around for the grill in front of the fan.

   
    
As she watched Laura sleeping, Samantha sat in the chair in the corner of her bedroom and thought through the events of the evening. After six years of mediocrity, with the biggest excitement being the odd light show when she got the chance to spook someone who entered what was now Igor’s room, she had experienced two wonderful kisses, watched Igor and Catarina make love, and nearly been dragged down to hell by her lover. What if he, and she still wasn’t sure if it was Andrew because the voice had only moaned, came for her here in Laura’s flat? She was sure her location in the hotel was irrelevant if she was doomed to go to hell anyway. The only thing that gave her hope was the fact the voice had stopped moaning and the eerie light had disappeared as soon as Laura entered Igor’s room. Was she her only protection from whoever it was that wanted to take her to hell? Samantha hoped not. What if they came for her when Laura wasn’t there, and she had no means of escape? With that thought in mind, she got up from the chair and floated through the opened door to the hallway.

   

It had taken fifteen minutes, but Igor had at last managed to remove the grill that covered the vent shaft for the fan. By using the tag on his key ring, he’d located each of the twelve screws that held it in place and painstakingly removed them. He searched his memory and tried to envisage what the fan actually looked like. He’d only seen it working when the kitchen was busy, and the door had been opened and closed several times. It was set to kick in when the condensation levels rose above a certain point, which obviously wasn’t going to happen now. Remembering that there was a screw bolt situated in the centre of the fan itself, Igor felt a surge of hope when his fingers located it. If he could remove the first fan blade, it might mean he could remove the next, and enable him to be heard in the carpark. It was a long shot because there would be nobody there at this time of night, but it was the only way he could see of making contact with the outside world before his body started to close down. With fingers that were beginning to feel like they were no longer connected to his body, Igor positioned the keyring tab in the centre of the bolt, and with a silent prayer, tried to turn it.

   

As she floated along the hallway, Samantha felt a sense of freedom for the first time since she died. She could actually feel the breeze wafting through the window as it lifted her long, blonde hair from her shoulders and it fanned out behind her. As she luxuriated in the fact she could stand at the window and feel the warm summer breeze, Samantha wondered if this could this be another means of escape should the hellish transporter return. At least she couldn’t fall to her death, she mused with a silent chuckle. What was the worst that could happen? Determined to find an alternative escape route should the necessity arise, Samantha willed her translucent body to float through the window…