She fell silent and worked harder at the blindfold. Eventually she dislodged it by rubbing her head back and forth against the headstone she was bound to. It finally came unknotted and fell down by her side. She laughed bitterly. Nancy and her crew werent even capable of tying a decent knot.
The boys were, though. She couldnt dislodge the ropes around her wrists and ankles, which were secured tightly against the tombstone.
She let out a sigh, reminding herself that she wasnt afraid of a graveyard. Even an unhallowed one. Her father had brought her here many times and told her of the injustices that had been perpetrated over the years. The townspeople had strung up an innocent slave instead of admitting to the guilt of a rich white man who had raped and strangled a young woman in the 1830s. His grave was unmarked. A horse thiefwho was admittedly guilty but hadnt killed anyonewas strung up in 1860. Apparently horse theft had been a major crime back then, since horses were needed for the militia units forming in the lead-up to the Civil War.
Charlie closed her eyes for a minute. She could hear the riverthe mighty Mississippichurning far below the bluff. She could hear tree branches swaying, the leaves rustling. She opened her eyes. Even though this was unhallowed ground, loved ones of those long gone had erected stones and monuments to mark their graves. A broken-winged angel looked mournfully down at her from a pedestal. Tombs and all manner of funerary art graced the area, some of it half-hidden by overgrown grass and shrubbery.
Time passed as she continued to fight with the ropes that bound her. She cursed out loud and then quietly to herself. She prayed that Cathywho was truly terrified of waterwas going to be all right.
Then she heard the sobbing.
Hey! she called out.
There was no reply. She inhaled, then let her breath out in a rush.
Yes, her family often saw ghosts or just felt their invisible presence. Shed known that Uncle Jessup had come to his own funeral; shed seen him stroking her mothers hair, as if trying to assure her that he was all right.
She wasnt at all sure she was ready to see a ghost tonight, though, not while she was tied to a tombstone. Especially not here on unhallowed ground. Some of the people buried had been truly evil. There was even rumor that a vicious voodoo queena woman who had poisoned a number of peoplehad been brought out here, hanged and left to rot, then buried with no marker. It might only be a tale meant to scare away couples who liked to come to the cemetery and drink among the old tombstones, maybe do drugs or have sex...whatever.
She wished she could see her watch. She felt as if shed already been there for hours.
More likely it had only been thirty minutes or so. Maybe she had imagined the sobbing.
No, she hadnt.
Because the sound came again. She blinked hard. A young woman seemed to be materializing right in front of her, just to the left by the base of an old moss-draped oak tree. The womans hair was swept up, and she was wearing a pretty blue gown. For a moment Charlie thought that she had come from a different era in history, but then she realized that the blue dress was a beautiful and entirely contemporary formal gown. The woman bent down; she looked like she was trying to pick something up.
But she couldnt. Whatever it was, it slipped through her ethereal fingers.
The woman seemed to sink against the tree and down to the ground.
And then she disappeared.
Charlie watched for a moment, then hung her own head.
Time was passing. Someone would come for her.
She looked up and blinked.
A Confederate soldier was walking toward her. He wore a frock coat lined in a yellow-buff color.
Cavalry. And an officer. She couldnt be her fathers daughter and not know that.
He wore a handsome plumed hat, and his sword was encased in a sheath belted around his hips.
She closed her eyes, wondering what a Southern soldier had done to end up buried out here.
Please, please go away, she thought. Because she was afraid. The air here on top of the bluff was growing chilly in the dark, and she still felt as if she could hearin her head, at leastthe soft sound of sobbing.
The cavalryman was still walking toward her.
Screw the damned club. What an idiot shed been.
Dont worry, Im going to help you.
At first she thought it was the ghostly Confederate who had spoken. But it wasnt. It was someone made of flesh and blood, someone real, and that realization startled her so badly that she let out a horrified scream.
Hey, hey, hey, he protested, stepping closer and starting to work at the ropes that bound her. Its all right. Im Ethan Delaney. Im here to help you.
She blinked. Ethan Delaney. She knew him, even if she didnt know him well. His father was a teacher and had recently taken a job at a music school in New Orleans. His mother taught piano. Ethan had graduated soon after shed gotten to high school; he was three years her senior. Shed really only seen him from afar. When shed been about eight or nine, hed gotten stuck babysitting for her and some other kids because their parents were all friends.
What she knew about Ethanwhat everyone knew about himwas that he was considered special, but not in a bad way. In a good way, in fact. Hed excelled at sports and qualified for scholarships at a bunch of schools. Hed ridden a motorcyclewhen he hadnt been riding around on Devil, his dads big buckskin quarter horse. People nodded when they heard his name and said things like That boys gonna make something of himself.
Hed been gone from town for a while now. Gone off to college in New Orleans. Soon his parents would move to New Orleans, too, and there would be little reason for him to come back to town.
Butamazinglyhe was here now and about to free her from her misery.
Ethan. Delaney, she said, still not entirely sure that he wasnt an apparition. She hadnt seen him coming; shed been distracted by the Confederate soldier just in front of him.
She stared as he kept working at the ropes. She could smell him, and he smelled good. Hed been riding earlier, she thought. He smelled of leather. He leaned back, focusing on one of the knots. She watched him as he concentrated. He had cool eyes. They were a golden green color. He was tanned. He had a lean face, and a thick strand of dark hair fell over one eye.
He was gorgeous.
She wasnt in his league.
But here he was, helping her.
Thank you, she managed to say.
How the hell did you get here? he asked.
Pledging, she told him.
Stupid.
I know. I told them Id had it, I didnt want to be in their presence, much less their club, Charlie said, her voice tight. They didnt listen.
I see that.
She was suddenly freed, and immediately she tried to stand. Her legs wobbled, and he reached out to steady her. She looked up.
Suddenly she was in love.
She couldnt let him see it.
Charlie cleared her throat and fought to quickly maintain her balance on her own as she forced a smile to her lips.
Thank you, Ethan. I owe you big-time.
It was nothing... He hesitated. Nothing at all.
He doesnt even know my name.
Their parents were friends; hed been to her house. But had he ever thought of her as anything other than a little kid? Did he even recognize her?
He was smiling at her. Listen, I walked here. I dont have a car. But when we get back to my parents old placehes in NOLA, and Mom is there picking up stuff, cause shes in the middle of movingI can use her car and drive you home.
I hate to trouble you. I can walk home now that Im not tied up, thanks to you.
His smile deepened. She noticed that he had a dimple in his chin. Im sorry, miss, but I was raised Southern, and my mama would probably still tan my hide if I didnt see you home safe.
He turned, holding her elbowprobably worried that she might trip on a gravestone, she thought.
I have a name, she told him, sounding more strident than shed meant to.
He stopped and looked down at her, that shock of hair still covering one of his eyes. Of course. Im so sorry. Its just that I dont know
Charlie. Charlene, actually. Charlene Moreau.
Something flickered in his eyes. Moreau. You used to hang at my house when you were little. Our parents are friends. Your dad is Jonathan Moreau, right?
Yes. She waited, afraid that somewhere along the line her father might have done something to bug him.
Wow, he said with admiration. Hes brilliant. He knows more about local history and politics than anyone Ive ever met.
Yep, thats him.
Come on, then. My mom can make you some tea or something, and then Ill take you home.
He started to walk, not holding on to her this time, and she followed. How did you know I was here? she asked him. I mean, you dont seem the kind to be spending his Friday night hanging out at the graveyard.
He paused, his back to her.
Was it the Confederate cavalryman? she asked softly, not even worrying that if he hadnt seen the ghost he might think she was nuts. Did he lead you here? If so, I wish I could thank him.
He turned then and stared at her. You saw...a cavalry soldier?
I did, she said.
He studied her intently. Then he nodded slowly. She felt the intensity of his gold-green eyes. Hed heard exactly what shed said, and he seemed to accept her words at face value.
Best not to mention such things, he said simply, and started walking again.
And, once more, she followed. Except that the sobbing shed heard earlier suddenly echoed in her mind again.
Come on, he called back.
Wait! she said.
What?
There wasthere was someone there before. By the tree. Give me just a second.
She hurried over the tree roots, fallen branches and broken headstones that stood between her and the tree in question, hoping he noticed that she didnt need any help, even in rough terrain.
There! She saw something shiny in the grass and sank to her kneesher jeans were already filthy anywaythen parted the weeds and grass to reveal a bracelet. It was gold, with a single gold charm studded with what might have been a diamond or might have been glass.
Suddenly Ethan was there, too, down on his knees beside her, reaching curiously for the bracelet.
She picked it up and handed it to him. A bracelet, she murmured, completely unnecessarily.
He looked up at her suddenly, those strange eyes of his intent on her. He flinched, staring at her.
What? What is it? she whispered.
He opened his hand. The bracelet lay on his palm, but she saw something else there, as well. Something gleaming and darker than the night.
What is it? she repeated.
Blood, he said quietly.
Charlie didnt realize then that, for her, the night, along with the rest of her life, was just beginning.
1
West Feliciana Parish, Louisiana
Ten Years Later
They rose from the earth one by one, spectral shapes that slowly crept to the top of the high bluff where the church had long held dominion over the landscape. If a watcher blinked, they might have seemed like a part of the mist, they were so ethereal. And yet, seen with eyes open and focused, they were clearly real, soldiers rising from their graves, worn, war-weary, dirty, sweaty and exhausted, yet ready to stand and fight for what they believed to be right. Here in this narrow strip of Louisiana between Baton Rouge and Port Hudson, the Civil War had one day come to a halt, and thus the men who rose from the earth wore both tattered butternut and gray or Union blue. They had been good men all, fighting for what they believed to be just when death stopped their fighting, though not forever. They rose together now, for even at a time when the nation had been torn apart in tragic and horrific conflict, they had found moments of peace and friendship.
They were a ghost army, ragged and unearthly, chilling and terrifying shadows of vengeance in the moonlight.
Now they moved slowly in unearthly splendor, spectral shapes, faces hardened, joined together to protect the innocent and destroy evil.
Charlie Moreau kept running forward, through the mist and straight toward the ghostly apparitions. They were no threat to her; it was the men in pursuit behind her who threatened her with fatal danger, those men whom she had to escape. She brushed by the apparitions, feeling a cold mist against her flesh. And then she fell...
She heard screaming from the men pursuing her, who were now being stopped in their tracks by the ghostly Civil War soldiers who had risen in her defense. She rolled over, braced herself on an elbow and looked back, both fear and a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
Cut!
Brad Thornton, director of the movie, stood and smiled broadly, applauding. Wonderful! Charlie, youre the perfect Dakota Ryan. The rest of you guys, you were everything you were supposed to be. All yall, come on over here. Youve got to see this footage. Its fantastic.
Charlie smiled and called back, Great! She was pleased to see how happy Brad was. Hed put everything into this, his heart, his soul and his best fund-raising efforts. Young, earnestnot to mention darkly good-lookinghe was extremely professional and had done well in a tough business. Even so, he was still an independent filmmaker, so he needed every break he could get. She was happy to work with him as lead actress on his latest film.
Jimmy Smith, an extra whod played one of the ghostly soldiers, reached a hand down to her. One of Charlies best friends from both high school and the Tulane Department of Theater and Dance, he had a quick grin and shaggy hair, and his smile was warm. Come on, Charlie. Sounds like this is one scene our mighty captain has decided hes gotten in one take.
Im kind of muddysorry, she apologized, happy to take his hand. Hed tried to help her on that horrible night long ago when the Cherubs had tied her up in the cemetery. Hed even cried as hed apologized to her afterward. Theyd stayed friends through everything, and she was glad to be working with him now.
Jimmy laughed. And Im a lovely mix of sweat and makeup and mud myself. Were both fine. Except they made me play a Yankee. That was the winning side, of course, but I doubt that mattered much to the men who died in battle, whether slowly and in pain or quickly, life snuffed out in an instant.
I think most of them believed in what they were fighting for, other than the ones who fought because theyd been drafted and had no choice.