Chapter 28
Charity guessed the boy was four, maybe five years old. He wore a pair of dirty, striped PJs, but his feet were bare. Thick bolts of red hair stood from his head at odd angles, his pale face and green eyes were wild with terror.
She stood beside Toni and watched the boy run screaming through a surrealistic kaleidoscope of scenes. His bedroom at one end, cluttered with dirty clothes and a few toys. The bedroom faded into a school playground, gravel and squeaky schoolyard toys blowing in an unfelt breeze. The playground faded slowly into what looked like a big, open-air mirror maze, like a carnival funhouse. Beyond that, a vast, gray stone floor, crumbling at the edges into black nothingness, tapering toward the farthest end until nothing but a degenerating, plank-like app
