It was the prisoners’ recreation period. The inmates milled about the exercise yard, the name given to the concrete pit that was watched over by guards in towers, and fenced in by more concrete, bricks and razor wire.

Jackson was with Raquel and they were leaning up against one of the red bricked walls, making conversation with Toby and Spider. Louie was with them, too, but he was offering nothing to the general discussion. Spider, however, contributed a lot. He was muttering about rumors circulating the prison concerning an escape attempt, planned to take place in the near future. Spider went on to say that those involved were well-known and powerful inmates, and expressed a feverish desire to join them in their escape.

While Raquel openly regarded the man with contempt, he still found the news quite interesting.

Jackson saw that Bubba was approaching them, flanked by the muscular twin brothers, Gino and Antoni Delvicchio. He stood his ground as the ugly threesome broke into the group's conversation. As Bubba and the Delvicchio brothers drew close, talk died.

A look passed from Bubba’s beady eyes to the others; a silent command that had Toby, Louie and Spider self-consciously shuffle off, returning to the prison building's interior. Raquel, however, held back, choosing to hover for a few moments longer. He glared at Bubba with defiance and cool loathing and then turned his attention back to Jackson. With his eyes now on the boy, Raquel seemed to be offering silent advice and comfort, warning Jackson not to lose his poise or to aggravate Bubba in anyway.

That moment of eye contact communication passed and then Raquel, too, moved along, leaving Jackson alone to face Bubba and his two henchmen.

Jackson felt the fear and tension in his muscles as they locked, like rusted hinges. He pushed his back up against the wall, as far as he could, wanting to be anywhere other than where he was. Bubba moved towards him, leaning one arm against the brick wall and drawing in close to the youth.

"So, my pretty child ...what brings you to our little holiday resort, hmm?" Bubba asked in a slow, inarticulate voice, devoid of any real humor.

"I didn't think we asked that sort of thing of the guys in here?" Jackson responded, surprised at his courage in countering Bubba’s question.

For a moment Bubba did not react. He just stared into Jackson's eyes while his cohorts leered grimly from behind the fat man's wide shoulders. Jackson felt that he'd made a dreadful mistake, and was probably about to have the shit kicked out of him. But then Bubba chuckled, his whole body and it's rolls of flesh undulating like a vat of boiling fat.

"It doesn't matter any, Jackson Crane. I know you. Came in on assault … against your father," he said casually, still grinning like a hell spawned Cheshire cat.

The surprise at hearing this from Bubba registered clearly on the youth's face, as Jackson wondered as to how Bubba had come across such information. As if being able to read the boy's mind, Bubba took some pleasure in telling him how he had found out Jackson's crime.

"I got contacts all over, my pretty child," Bubba announced, forcibly drawing Jackson in closer to him, in a confidential huddle. "Just between you and me –I run this five star hotel."

Jackson maintained his silence, though squirmed uncomfortably at being so close to the pig-faced man..

"Nothing goes on around here that I don't let happen. Nothing goes on that I don't know about. You understand that, don't you?" he said as he ran his hand with its short, unpleasantly warm, podgy fingers through Jackson's hair. The boy's eyes rolled to the back of his skull in a reaction of horror and disgust, before looking around, probing the exercise yard; searching for someone; a guard, an inmate, anyone who could help him get out of his current predicament. But there was no one in site; the area was deserted.

That struck Jackson as odd, and ominous, as there had been a couple of dozen inmates, and almost as many guards, moving about the space only moments before. Bubba sensed the youth's anxiety and silent search for help, so he then assured the boy that there was no one to come to his aid.

"... No one, my pretty child,” Bubba said, emphasising the point once more. "The guards are mine, too. And the few that aren't ...well, they're too smart, and scared, to do anything about it." Again he gave that crazy smile, and gently stroked the youth's cheek, while Jackson flinched.

"Now you're mine, too ...my pretty child," he nodded slightly, seemingly very satisfied, his voice pitched low, hoarse with an emotion and thoughts that Jackson didn’t care to imagine.

"And as long as I want you, no-one is to touch - unless they've got a death wish, I s’ppose," he concluded with a ghastly chuckle.

Bubba straightened up and drew away, and Jackson made no attempt at hiding his relief, and found himself breathing more freely.

"We'll be seeing more of each other real soon, my pretty child," Bubba said and then he and the Delvicchio twins turned away, about to leave, when Jackson called out after Bubba in a last, desperate attempt to understand.

"Why?" he asked simply.

Bubba paused and slowly turned back to look at the youth. He regarded him with a light smile for a moment, which deepened to a frown, intensifying still further, as if he were looking on some kind of wonder, some miracle. His lips parted as he appeared about to say something, as if he held an answer ...but it vanished and his thick, rubbery lips lapsed into another sick, faint grin for a moment or two before he turned away from the youth once more and continued walking away, his cronies by his side.

Jackson hadn't really expected a reply. He fell back heavily against the brick wall and closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it of unwanted thoughts, and to find ones that would lead him out of the mess he was in, to give him some direction. It was at times like these, he realised, that most people would try prayer. But he had found out along time ago that prayer gave little comfort. In fact, none at all, he thought to himself with a feeling he was coming to know too intimately.