see in the darkness was the raw riverbank and the
wooden trestles of the bridge.
"Stefan?" she whispered, and she was almost glad that the noise of the water
drowned her out. She felt like a person calling "who's there?" to an empty house, yet
afraid of what might answer.
"This isn't right," said Bonnie from behind her.
"What do you mean?"
Bonnie was looking around, shaking her head slightly, her body taut with
concentration. "It just feels wrong. I don't—well, for one thing I didn't hear the river
before. I couldn't hear anything at all, just dead silence."
Elena's heart dropped with dismay. Part of her knew that Bonnie was right, that
Stefan wasn't in this wild and lonely place. But part of her was too scared to listen.
"We've got to make sure," she said through the constriction in her chest, and she
moved farther into the darkness, feeling her way along because she couldn't see. But
at last she had to admit that there was no sign that any person had recently been
here. No sign of a dark head in the water, either. She wiped cold muddy hands on
her jeans.
"We can check the other side of the bridge," said Meredith, and Elena nodded
mechanically. But she didn't need to see Bonnie's expression to know what they'd
find. This was the wrong place.
"Let's just get out of here," she said, climbing through vegetation toward the
wedge of light beyond the bridge. Just as she reached it, Elena froze.
Bonnie gasped. "Oh, God—"
"Get back," hissed Meredith. "Up against the bank."
Clearly silhouetted against the car headlights above was a black figure. Elena,
staring with a wildly beating heart, could tell nothing about it except that it was male.
The face was in darkness, but she had a terrible feeling.
It was moving toward them.
Ducking out of sight, Elena cowered back against the muddy riverbank under the
bridge, pressing herself as flat as possible. She could feel Bonnie shaking behind
her, and Meredith's fingers sank into her arm.
They could see nothing from here, but suddenly there was a heavy footfall on the
bridge. Scarcely daring to breathe, they clung to one another, faces turned up. The
heavy footsteps rang across the wooden planks, moving away from them.
Please let him keep going, thought Elena. Oh, please…
She sank her teeth into her lip, and then Bonnie whimpered softly, her icy hand
clutching Elena's. The footsteps were coming back.
I should go out there, Elena thought. It's me he wants, not them. He said as much.
I should go out there and face him, and maybe he'll let Bonnie and Meredith leave.
But the fiery rage that had sustained her that morning was in ashes now. With all her
strength of will, she could not make her hand let go of Bonnie's, could not tear
herself away.
The footsteps sounded right above them. Then there was silence, followed by a
slithering sound on the bank.
No, thought Elena, her body charged with fear. He was coming down. Bonnie
moaned and buried her head against Elena's shoulder, and Elena felt every muscle
tense as she saw movement—feet, legs—appear out of the darkness. No…
"What are you doing down there?"
Elena's mind refused to process this information at first. It was still panicking, and
she almost screamed as Matt took another step down the bank, peering under the
bridge.
"Elena? What are you doing?" he said again.
Bonnie's head flew up. Meredith's breath exploded in relief. Elena herself felt as if
her knees might give way.
"Matt," she said. It was all she could manage.
Bonnie was more vocal. "What do you think you're doing?" she said in rising
tones. "Trying to give us a heart attack? What are you out here for at this time of
night?"
Matt thrust a hand into his pocket, rattling change. As they emerged from under
the bridge, he stared out over the river. "I followed you."
"You what?" said Elena.
Reluctantly, he swung to face her. "I followed you," he repeated, shoulders tense.
"I figured you'd find a way to get around your aunt and go out again. So I sat in my
car across the street and watched your house. Sure enough, you three came climbing
out the window. So I followed you here."
Elena didn't know what to say. She was angry, and of course, he had probably
done it only to keep his promise to Stefan. But the thought of Matt sitting out there
in his battered old Ford, probably freezing to death and without any supper… it gave
her a strange pang she didn't want to dwell on.
He was looking out at the river again. She stepped closer to him and spoke
quietly.
"I'm sorry, Matt," she said. "About the way I acted back at the house, and—and
about—" She fumbled for a minute and then gave up. About everything, she thought
hopelessly.
"Well, I'm sorry for scaring you just now." He turned back briskly to face her, as
if that settled the matter. "Now could you please tell me what you think you're
doing?"
"Bonnie thought Stefan might be here."
"Bonnie did not," said Bonnie. "Bonnie said right away that it
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