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Chelsea thought. This was like school. She had to help the dollies build the gate to heaven. Only a special girl could do such a thing, but Jesus loved her, the Bible said so. She could do it. But how to make it build faster. Well, she needed . . .

We need more dollies! And more chosen people to protect them!

That’s right, Chelsea. And how could you find more dollies?

The answer came quicker this time.

I need to search farther.

Chelsea pushed her thoughts. The oatmeal spread. She sensed dollies, out in many, many places. They were too far apart to come together, and she needed many to build the gate. She needed . . . she needed at least thirty-three dollies.

Chauncey hadn’t told her that number, and yet she knew it. How? She searched her thoughts. The number seemed to come from the dollies. Was that what Chauncey meant by thinking for herself?

She could do this on her own. She could make Chauncey proud.

Chelsea pushed further. More hits, more dollies . . . and something else . . .

. . . something dark . . .

. . . something . . . mean.

Her breath came faster. She couldn’t move. It was like a dream, one of the nightmares when the boogeyman came for her and she ran and then she fell and she couldn’t get up and the boogeyman was coming and he had that sharp knife and he was going to stab it in her back but it couldn’t be a dream she was awake this thing this monster this giant monster was going to get her.

“No!” She meant to scream the word, but it came out a hoa.r.s.e whisper so quiet she could barely hear it herself. “No no nonono!”

Chelsea, stop, do not connect to him.

“The boogeyman,” she hissed. “Chauncey, the boogeyman is real.”

Chelsea, stop!

The connection broke. Chelsea blinked, then sucked in a big breath. Her whole body shook. Her pants were hot and wet.

She’d peed herself.

Do not connect with that one. He is the destroyer. He wants to stop us, Chelsea. He wants to hurt you. You must remember what that one feels like, recognize it, and never connect with him again.

She nodded. She knew the destroyer was evil. She’d felt it.

Chelsea got off her bed and looked down. Her pants were soaked with pee-pee. She felt her face flush red. She’d wet herself. She was a big girl, and that wasn’t supposed to happen anymore. She’d peed herself because of the boogeyman.

The fear hadn’t left, but Chelsea Jewell started to feel the first embers of other emotions.

The embers of rage.

The embers of hate.

Perry sat very still. He waited for the feeling to return.

It did not.