by Amy Cross
"Cassie..." I start to say, before realizing that there's no way she's going to let this go. "Fine," I say, putting the controller down. "We'll go up there one final time. We'll use the board, one final time. And once you've seen that there's no such thing as ghosts, we'll put the board away and never do it again. You'll stop going on about it, and we'll start doing normal things. Deal?"
"Deal," she says, reaching out and shaking my hand. "You're wrong, though. She's there. She's waiting for us. I could feel it last time. She's daring us to go up there again, because she wants to give us a message, or she just wants to let us see her, or something like that. She died in that cabin. Can you imagine how much pain and suffering she endured in that tiny space? It's probably the pain that allows her consciousness to remain, like an anchor. She must be haunted by the memory of her life, and she wants to make sure no-one forgets about her."
"Let's just get going," I tell her as I head to the door. "I guess it'll be mildly amusing to prove you wrong."
Epilogue Two
1864
"Bring her in!" the General shouts, before turning back to the map that has been spread out across the table. "Show me again. Where are their forces?"
"Here," says one of his commanders, indicating an area on the map, "and here. They've managed to gain footholds beyond Collinsville, and if they advance as far as Paleytown and Dedston, they'll have a significant advantage. Our men need rest, Sir. They can't fight when they haven't slept for three days!"
"They can't rest yet," the General mutters, glancing over at the door and watching as Captain Hodges and his men push a hooded figure into the room.
"Where do you want her?" Hodges asks.
"On her knees," the General replies. "She'll have to wait a moment, though. I'm busy."
"Get on your knees," Hodges says to the figure, who has a hood wrapped tightly around her head and tied with thick rope at the base of the neck. After waiting a moment, Hodges uses the butt of his rifle to knock the figure's feet away, causing her to slam down onto her knees. "You'll do well to obey orders from now on," he sneers, leaning close to her. "You're among your superiors now, girl."
Turning back to the map, the General pauses for a moment as he tries to work out how best to proceed. He knows that the situation is getting worse by the hour, but he still believes that God will eventually grant him the inspiration to win the day. Closing his eyes, he waits desperately for some form of divine intervention, but nothing comes.
"Sir?" asks the commander, standing nearby. "We need a decision."
"Tell the men to be ready," the General says, opening his eyes. "We'll most likely be attacked before dawn."
"They can't fight!" the commander replies angrily. "They can barely even stand!"
"Send a message to Washington," the General continues. "Tell him we'll hold Fort Powell and push back against the enemy. Tell him he can rely on us to secure this entire county."
"That's madness," the commander replies. "We can't tell General Washington such a thing. We have no chance whatsoever of holding even Fort Powell. We should retreat and -"
"We will never retreat!" the General shouts. "Never! Send the message to General Washington and tell the men to prepare for battle! If you won't obey my orders, I'll have you shot and I'll find a better man to take your place. Is that clear?"
The commander opens his mouth to argue, but finally he turns and hurries out of the room.
"Why must I be surrounded by fools?" the General mutters, staring at the map. "Do these men not trust God to deliver victory? It's in our darkest hour that our faith must be strongest, else we shall be defeated. If we..." Pausing, he glances over at the hooded figure, and slowly a smile forms on his lips. "Perhaps God is presenting other tests," he says quietly, before taking his sword from a nearby table and walking across the room until he's standing in front of the kneeling prisoner. "Do you speak, girl?" he asks. "Tell me. How many men have you killed, and what color were their shirts?"
"She hasn't spoken since we took her from her cabin," Hodges says after a moment. "She put up a hell of a fight, Sir. She killed one of my men, and it took another dozen to subdue her. Since we put the hood over her face, she's calmed down, but she hasn't said a word."
"We'll soon change that," the General replies, placing the tip of his sword on the prisoner's left shoulder. "So you're the famous Darper Danver, are you? I've heard a great deal about you. It seems you've spent several months slaughtering soldiers on both sides of this war. Tell me, are your actions driven by some deep belief regarding the direction of this country, or do you merely enjoy the taste of blood?"
He waits for a reply, but the figure says nothing.
"Do you honestly believe you can remain silent?" the General asks, moving the tip of his blade to the edge of the prisoner's neck. "Do you have any idea who I am? You are in the presence of one of the most decorated men in the world. I have ordered the deaths of thousands of men, so if you believe I have any hesitation when it comes to you, I can assure you that you're entirely mistaken. Having said that..." He pauses for a moment. "I have never directly ordered the execution of a woman before. I suppose I have always believed the fairer sex to be worthy of preservation, although I admit I might have been a little naive on that count. Perhaps it's time to remedy the omission."
"Shall I prepare the gallows?" Hodges asks.
"Remove the hood first," the General replies. "I wish to see her face."
Stepping behind the prisoner, Hodges loosens the rope and drops it to the floor, before lifting the hood.
The General raises an eyebrow as he sees Darper Danver's face for the first time. "Well," he says after a moment. "You are certainly a rather beautiful creature," he mutters as he moves the tip of his sword through her tightly-cropped blonde hair and then back down, past the scar on her chin and finally up to her cheek, just beneath her dark, angry eyes. "Do you not speak?" he asks. "Perhaps you have a rather simple mind, and you're not capable of forming intelligent sentences, or perhaps you know that you're in the company of your betters, and you feel that you should show some respect by keeping quiet? Still, I grant you permission to speak, Ms. Danver. I want to hear what you have to say for yourself before I put you to death."
"You cannot kill me," Darper says after a moment, her voice sounding harsh but determined. "You yourself will be dead by morning, Sir, and all your armies, dust."
The Ballad of Darper Danver
part I
Prologue One
1864
Holding the whip firmly in his right hand, the General stands and admires his prisoner.
To the untrained eye, Darper Danver appears to be dead. Her skin is split open in several places, with blood having been spilled down her tattered clothes. Her arms are held up by a pair of manacles, but her head is bowed, with a steady trickle of blood from a deep wound across her face, almost as if a faucet has been left half-open. The blood has begun to collect in an ever-widening puddle on the floor. She seems utterly still, and the only faint indication of life is an almost imperceptible tremor on either side of her neck, as her heart continues to beat.
"You were right about my army," the General says after a moment. "Their bodies litter the land from here to Collinsville. Those who didn't turn and run, at least. The one bright spot is that at least the soil in this town will be fertile for generations to come." Pausing, he takes a step closer to Darper. "No matter," he adds eventually. "God's plan must merely be to test me in some other way. I must say, though, that I still haven't quite worked out what lesson he means to teach. So many men are dying every day in this cursed war, and I cannot shake the feeling that the entire tragedy is intended to serve as a message to me. But what kind of message? Any ideas?"
Reaching out, he puts his hand under Darper's chin and tilts her face up. The wound in the front of her face is deep and wide, her nose having been crushed and pushed inward, but after a moment her eyes blink as they stare at her tormentor.
"And still you live," t
he General mutters. "I must say, I've seen men die from lesser wounds. Your strength is a mighty thing to behold, especially for a woman. I hope you'll understand that I think rather highly of you."
Darper merely stares at him, as if he's unable to respond.
"Can you still feel pain?" the General asks, reaching out and slapping the side of her face. "I hope there's more to you than a bag of flesh and bones."
He smiles as Darper lets out a muffled grunt.
"Good," he replies with a smile. "You're still in there. I must say, I've been looking forward to taking my anger out on you all morning. If it's any consolation, I'm quite certain I shall finish you off. Believe me, while I might appear to be a calm and patient man, beneath the surface I am fit to burst with righteous fury. Before I begin, however, I must ask if you have any final words. God might still have mercy on your soul if you repent your sins. It's unlikely, of course, but as a gentleman, I must give you the opportunity."
Staring at him, Darper's eyes seem utterly blank for a moment, before finally her lips start to tremble. It's as if she's trying to summon the strength to say a few words.
"What is it?" the General asks. "Are you to repent after all? After killing so many men, are you finally ready to acknowledge your sins and beg for forgiveness?"
Her lips continue to tremble, and slowly she opens her mouth.
"That's right," the General says with a smile. "You can do it. I know it's hard, but if you truly want the forgiveness of the Lord, you must fight with every ounce of strength left in your body. Show that you care. Show that you're desperate to be heard."
"You bound my arms well," Darper whispers finally, her voice barely more than a faint rustle, "and I think... I shall never get them free. However, you... you forgot one thing."
"And what is that?" the General asks with a grin.
Darper pauses. "My legs," she says finally.
The General frowns.
Without any further warning, Darper hauls herself up and wraps her legs around the man's waist. As he cries out for help, she pulls him tight against her body and bites down hard on his face, ripping away much of the flesh. Although her victim struggles, he can do nothing to get free from the iron grip of her legs, and she squeezes him so tight that after a few more seconds his breastbone breaks, its sharp edges quickly digging into his heart and lungs. Blood erupts from his mouth, but Darper continues to bite at his features until finally there's nothing left but a stumpy, meaty mess. Once the General has stopped struggling, Darper loosens her grip and lets his body slump to the ground, landing face-first in the puddle of blood.
Taking a deep breath, Darper lowers her legs to the ground and pauses for a moment, summoning the last of her strength. Finally, she starts to pull at the manacles that hold her wrists. At first, there seems to be no movement, but finally a tearing sound fills the room and she rips her left arm clean from the wrist, before doing the same on the other side. Her severed hands still wedged in the manacles, Darper staggers forward, stepping over the General's corpse as she heads toward the door. More blood is flowing from her body, and she expects to drop at any moment, but finally she makes her way out into the corridor. She knows her death is imminent, but she also knows that she can't die here. Not like this. All she wants now is the chance to die at home.
As she crosses the room, however, several armed men appear in the doorway, their rifles raised straight at her. Captain Hodges shouts for the men to open fire, and seconds later Darper is cut down by a hail of bullets that rip through her body, blowing one side of her face away while puncturing her heart. The soldiers continue to fire, and finally Darper's body topples forward, landing hard on the cold stone floor. As she dies, she screams.
Prologue Two
Five years ago
"I don't know that this is the best idea in the world," Bobby says as he walks along behind us. "I mean, do we really need to go up there? It's kinda creepy."
"That's the whole point," Cassie says, turning to him as we make our way through the forest. "Creepy's good. Creepy's exciting."
"Creepy's melodramatic," I add, finding it hard not to let my frustration show. "And cliched. Don't forget cliched."
"You can't do a Ouija board in the middle of the fucking day in your kitchen," Cassie replies with a smile. "These things require a certain sense of occasion, Fisher. Anyway, we're not just looking for some random old ghost. We're looking for the Darper Danver. We were so close last time. Tonight, we're gonna get through. I can feel it in my bones."
"Sounds great," Bobby replies unenthusiastically. "I mean, who wouldn't want to try summoning up some evil old spirit in a creepy cabin in the middle of the woods?"
"Darper wasn't evil," Cassie continues. "How many times do I have to remind you? She was a hero. She defended this whole town against soldiers during the Civil War. It's not her fault that she eventually got captured and killed. She still managed to get back to the cabin, though. According to the legend, she ripped her hands off and stole a horse, and then she made it all the way to the cabin before dropping dead as soon as she stepped inside. Is that not the freakiest thing ever?"
"It's the biggest pile of bullshit ever," I mutter. "Your Mom made all that stuff up. She took a sliver of truth from some old history book and then she added all that other stuff."
"Maybe," Cassie says, "and maybe not. Either way, we'll find out tonight. We'll ask Darper herself."
As soon as we reach the clearing around the cabin, Bobby and I both hang back while Cassie hurries onward, pushing the door open before turning to look back at us. I can't work out whether her constant enthusiasm for this little expedition is infectious or irritating.
"Seriously?" she says after a moment. "Are you two gonna just hang around out here while I go inside?"
"It's not that we're scared," I say, heading over to join her. "It's that we're bored."
"I'm a little scared," Bobby says as he hurries after us. "I mean, not very scared, but a little bit. My sister says weird things happen up here sometimes. She has a friend who saw lights one time, and another friend who said they heard noises."
"Becky's a bullshit merchant," I point out as I step into the cabin and drop my backpack onto the floor.
"Don't be so noisy," Cassie says, hurrying past me. "You'll offend her. Ghosts don't like loud bangs. You'll scare her away, or you'll make it so she doesn't like us and decides not to bother communicating." She opens her bag and pulls out the Ouija board, which she immediately starts to set up on the floor.
"Why the hell did I agree to do this again?" Bobby mutters, clearly getting more and more agitated. "The whole thing's insane. I should never have come up here."
"Relax," I reply, as I walk over to the far wall and examine a spot where someone has carved the name Darper Danver into the wood. "We'll be out of here in a couple of hours. Let's just humor Cassie and then go back to my place. My Dad's got beer and he's away for the week, so at least we'll have a good time eventually."
"That sounds better," Bobby says. "I mean, you could have told me there'd be beer at the end of the rainbow."
"You two guys are hilarious," Cassie says as she finishes setting the board out. "Do you think your bullshit isn't totally transparent? You're both muttering and mumbling like a pair of terrified idiots. There's no reason why communication with the spirit world has to be scary. It's science, dummies. If ghosts exist, they're a part of the world, just like we are." She pauses. "I've read the history books about Darper Danver. There's nothing to suggest that she was some kind of evil tyrant. She was just a woman who wanted to defend her town against a bunch of soldiers. She was brave, and she cared about Fort Powell. Why the hell would she hate us just because we try to talk to her?"
"Don't you think the dead should be left to rest?" Bobby asks.
"You're acting as if any of this could be possible," I say with a sigh. "If there's really a ghost up here, how come no-one else has ever seen it? I guess maybe, just maybe, the reason could be that there's no such thi
ng as ghosts, and Darper Danver, if she existed at all, died a couple of hundred years ago."
"Such a closed mind," Cassie says with mock sadness. "Why don't you put your money where your mouth is, Fisher? There's no reason to wait. Both of you, sit down and we'll get started." She turns to me and smiles. "If you're so certain that this is all bullshit, why not prove it? Or do you secretly think there's a chance we might actually get somewhere? What if Darper Danver actually contacts us? What if she appears? What if, right here in this cabin, we become the first people to make absolute, undeniable contact with the spirit world?"
Sighing, I sit next to her and stare at the board for a moment.
"Bobby?" she says, staring up at him. "You in?"
"I guess," he replies, sitting next to me. It's clear that he doesn't want to be here, but it's not as if anyone's making him stay.
"Don't sweat," I say, glancing over at him. "It's just a load of bullshit. It's basically one step up from a board-game. What's the worst that could happen?"
"So Bobby," Cassie says, pushing the planchette toward him, "you wanna go first?"
Today
Fisher Benhauser
Slipping on the wet leaves, I drop to my knees and Cassie slips from my arms, landing hard against the forest floor. I immediately roll her over and wipe more mud from her face, but she seems to be unconscious again.
"You've just gotta stay with me," I say, hauling her back up and carrying her toward the cabin. There's still a single light up ahead, as if something is moving about inside, and I'm not quite sure what to expect. As far as I remember, Darper Danver never lit things up; in fact, she seemed to prefer darkness, so I have no idea who could be in the cabin right now. Still, I have no choice but to go and find out. As much as I want to get the hell away from this place, I know that Cassie was right when she said we have to come and face Darper. We have to finish what we started five years ago.
