Part 90

"I don't like where he's going," said Frank. They'd been walking in silence for a while, and Frank had to admit that Owen was right. Despite his earlier denial, Jones was tracing a deliberate path through the labyrinth. He'd passed several intersecting passageways without seeming to notice them, only to squeeze through a narrow or barely noticeable opening mere minutes later. Owen and Frank stayed close... close enough to follow easily, yet far enough back not to disturb their unknowing guide.

Jones knew they were there, of course. He paused several times to look back at them. He shook his head a few times, but made no effort to lose them. Once, he asked why they were following. Owen replied that they had nothing better to do, and Jones merely grunted and started walking again.

Neither of them asked Jones where he was going.

Frank figured that asking would ruin it. Owen agreed, and so they kept their questions to themselves.

"He's headed toward where I saw that thing," Frank said finally. "Where those monsters were."

"Her children," said Owen. "I wonder what they looked like. If they got any traits from their father."

"I'd rather not think about that. But we ARE headed right for 'em."

"Doesn't surprise me. Probably surprise the hell out of Jones, though."

"Yeah," Frank muttered. He fingered the shaft of the giant stinger he carried. A few seconds later he started twirling it between his fingers. He did so without thinking, but still managed to keep his flesh well away from the sharp tip.

"You were pretty good with that thing," said Owen, nodding at the weapon.

"Eh?" Frank glanced at it; realized what he was doing, and stopped. "Oh. Not my weapon of choice, but it got the job done."

"What IS your weapon of choice?" said Owen.

"Eh?" The smaller man looked up at Owen.

"You heard me. We heard Jones' story. What's yours?"

"I don't see how that's-"

"C'mon, Frank."

Frank frowned, then chuckled.

"Yeah, well... guess you could say I'm in the financial sector."

"Which is a euphemism for... drugs?"

"Not directly."

"Prostitution?"

"Not directly."

"Money laundering?"

Frank shrugged.

"Close?"

"I'm sorta like a debt consultant. I make sure people get paid what they're owed, ya know?"

"Really? I never would've... well... you're kinda-"

"Small?"

"Yeah."

"I get that a lot. It's an asset. People never see guys like me comin'."

"Somebody did. I'm guessing that's why you're here."

"It was a bad day," said Frank. "But one's all it takes. Some guy skips out on his obligations. I pay his wife a visit. She offers ta renegotiate; says she's got some jewelry that's worth a bit a cash. I take a look at... ...and the next thing I know I'm waking up here with you guys."

"Now there's a familiar story."

"So what's with all the curiosity? Feelin' chatty all of a sudden?"

"Curiosity is kind of what I do."

"But you never say or do anything without a reason. So what gives?"

"Honestly... I'm all out of ideas."

"Hell, you've had more than most-"

"I'm serious, Frank. I wasn't lying when I told Jones we didn't have anything better to do. We don't... I'm all out of ideas. We could wander around randomly opening doors. We could find a place to hide. Every option I come up with is no better than this one... and this one's not all that great."

"So what you're saying is... you don't think we're gonna make it outta here."

"No," said Owen. "I don't."