The Vampire Diaries - The Struggle | Page 7

nodded, her eyes sore and burning as she looked away. "Yes. I think that
was Stefan. It had to be. And I think she even told us where he is. Under Wickery
Bridge, in the water."

Three
Bonnie stared. "I don't remember anything about the bridge. It didn't feel like a
bridge."
"But you said it yourself, at the end. I thought you remembered…" Elena's voice
died away. "You don't remember that part," she said flatly. It was not a question.
"I remember being alone, somewhere cold and dark, and feeling weak… and
thirsty. Or was it hungry? I don't know, but I needed… something. And I almost
wanted to die. And then you woke me up."
Elena and Meredith exchanged a glance. "And after that," Elena said to Bonnie,
"you said one more thing, in a strange voice. You said not to go near the bridge."
"She told you not to go near the bridge."
Meredith corrected. "You in particular, Elena. She said Death was waiting."
"I don't care what's waiting," said Elena. "If that's where Stefan is, that's where
I'm going."
"Then that's where we're all going," said Meredith.
Elena hesitated. "I can't ask you to do that," she said slowly. "There might be
danger—of a kind you don't know about. It might be best for me to go alone."
"Are you kidding?" Bonnie said, sticking her chin out. "We love danger. I want to
be young and beautiful in my grave, remember?"
"Don't," said Elena quickly. "You were the one who said it wasn't a game."
"And not for Stefan, either," Meredith reminded them. "We're not doing him
much good standing around here."
Elena was already shrugging out of her kimono, moving toward the closet. "We'd
better all bundle up. Borrow anything you want to keep warm," she said.
When they were more or less dressed for the weather, Elena turned to the door.
Then she stopped.
"Robert," she said. "There's no way we can get past him to the front door, even if
he's asleep."
Simultaneously, the three of them turned to look at the window.
"Oh, wonderful," said Bonnie.
As they climbed out into the quince tree, Elena realized that it had stopped
snowing. But the bite of the air on her cheek made her remember Damon's words.
Winter is an unforgiving season, she thought, and shivered.
All the lights in the house were out, including those in the living room. Robert
must have gone to sleep already. Even so, Elena held her breath as they crept past
the darkened windows. Meredith's car was a little way down the street. At the last

minute, Elena decided to get some rope, and she soundlessly opened the back door
to the garage. There was a swift current in Drowning Creek, and wading would be
dangerous.
The drive to the end of town was tense. As they passed the outskirts of the
woods, Elena remembered the way the leaves had blown at her in the cemetery.
Particularly oak leaves.
"Bonnie, do oak trees have any special significance? Did your grandmother ever
say anything about them?"
"Well, they were sacred to the Druids. All trees were, but oak trees were the most
sacred. They thought the spirit of the trees brought them power."
Elena digested that in silence. When they reached the bridge and got out of the
car, she gave the oak trees on the right side of the road an uneasy glance. But the
night was clear and strangely calm, and no breeze stirred the dry brown leaves left on
the branches.
"Keep your eyes out for a crow," she said to Bonnie and Meredith.
"A crow?" Meredith said sharply. "Like the crow outside Bonnie's house the night
Yangtze died?"
"The night Yangtze was killed. Yes." Elena approached the dark waters of
Drowning Creek with a rapidly beating heart. Despite its name, it was not a creek,
but a swiftly flowing river with banks of red native clay. Above it stood Wickery
Bridge, a wooden structure built nearly a century ago. Once, it had been strong
enough to support wagons; now it was just a footbridge that nobody used because it
was so out of the way. It was a barren, lonely, unfriendly place, Elena thought. Here
and there patches of snow lay on the ground.
Despite her brave words earlier, Bonnie was hanging back. "Remember the last
time we went over this bridge?" she said.
Too well, Elena thought. The last time they had crossed it, they were being
chased by… something… from the graveyard. Or someone, she thought.
"We're not going over it yet," she said. "First we've got to look under it on this
side."
"Where the old man was found with his throat torn open," Meredith muttered, but
she followed.
The car headlights illuminated only a small portion of the bank under the bridge.
As Elena stepped out of the narrow wedge of light, she felt a sick thrill of
foreboding. Death was waiting, the voice had said. Was Death down here?
Her feet slipped on the damp, scummy stones. All she could hear was the rushing
of the water, and its hollow echo from the bridge above her head. And, though she
strained her eyes, all she could