Chapter 23
Charity thought the dead man’s gun was a six-shooter. She was almost sure of it. Almost sure. She sat alone in a shaded niche next to the small cave at the far end of the giant den, as alone as she could be in this cavernous dome full of raggedy children anyway. A few had come and gone, carrying torches into the tunnel and disappearing. She thought it was the place, or maybe led to the place, where they went when they needed to be alone. It wasn’t an option for her yet. Until I have my own torch, she thought, stepping into that darkness would mean a quick end.
It was a six-shooter, she thought. But how many times did he fire it?
She counted the reports over in her memory, three to scare the kids away, and three at the Bogeyman. Or maybe it was only two.
Music played
