"Can't we just finish tomorrow?" Bonnie said plaintively. "Tomorrow's Saturday," said Elena. "And we were supposed to have this done last week."
"I'll get Shelby," said Meredith again. "Come on, Bonnie, you're going with me."
Elena began, "We could all go-" but Meredith interrupted.
"If we all go and we can't find him, then we can't get back in. Come on, Bonnie, it's only inside the school."
"But it'sdark there."
"It's dark everywhere; it's nighttime. Comeon; with two of us it'll be safe." She dragged an unwilling Bonnie to the door. "Elena, don't let anybody else in."
"As if you had to tell me," said Elena, letting them out and then watching them go a few paces down the hall. At the point at which they began to merge with the dimness, she stepped back inside and shut the door.
Well, this was a fine mess, as her mother used to say. Elena moved over to the cardboard box Meredith had brought and began stacking filing folders and notebooks back inside it. In this light she could see them only as vague shapes. There was no sound at all but her own breathing and the sounds she made. She was alone in the huge, dim room-
Someone was watching her.
She didn't know how she knew, but she was sure. Someone was behind her in the dark gymnasium, watching.Eyes in the dark , the old man had said. Vickie had said it, too. And now there were eyes on her.
She whirled quickly to face the room, straining her own eyes to see into the shadows, trying not even to breathe. She was terrified that if she made a sound the thing out there would get her. But she could see nothing, hear nothing.
The bleachers were dim, menacing shapes stretching out into nothingness. And the far end of the room was simply a featureless gray fog. Dark mist, she thought, and she could feel every muscle agonizingly tense as she listened desperately. Oh God, what was that soft whispering sound? It must be her imagination... Please let it be her imagination.
Suddenly, her mind was clear. She had to get out of this place,now . There was real danger here, not just fantasy. Something was out there, something evil, something that wanted her. And she was all alone.
Something moved in the shadows.
Her scream froze in her throat. Her muscles were frozen, too, held motionless by her terror-and by some nameless force. Helplessly, she watched as the shape in the darkness moved out of the shadows and toward her. It seemed almost as if the darkness itself had come to life and was coalescing as she watched, taking on form-human form, the form of a young man.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you." The voice was pleasant, with a slight accent she couldn't place. It didn't sound sorry at all.
Relief was so sudden and complete that it was painful. She slumped and heard her own breath sigh out.
It was only a guy, some former student or an assistant of Mr. Shelby's. An ordinary guy, who was smiling faintly, as if it had amused him to see her almost pass out.
Well... perhaps not quite ordinary. He was remarkably good-looking. His face was pale in the artificial twilight, but she could see that his features were cleanly defined and nearly perfect under a shock of dark hair. Those cheekbones were a sculptor's dream. And he'd been almost invisible because he was wearing black: soft black boots, black jeans, black sweater, and leather jacket.
He was still smiling faintly. Elena's relief turned to anger.
"How did you get in?" she demanded. "And what are you doing here? Nobody else is supposed to be in the gym."
"I came in the door," he said. His voice was soft, cultured, but she could still hear the amusement and she found it disconcerting.
"All the doors are locked," she said flatly, accusingly.
He raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Are they?"
Elena felt another quiver of fear, hairs lifting on the back of her neck. "They were supposed to be," she said in the coldest voice she could manage.
"You're angry," he said gravely. "I said I was sorry to frighten you."
"I wasn't frightened!" she snapped. She felt foolish in front of him somehow, like a child being humored by someone much older and more knowledgeable. It made her even angrier. "I was just startled," she continued. "Which is hardly surprising, what with you lurking in the dark like that."
"Interesting things happen in the dark... sometimes." He was still laughing at her; she could tell by his eyes. He had taken a step closer, and she could see that those eyes were unusual, almost black, but with odd lights in them. As if you could look deeper and deeper until you fell into them, and went on falling forever.
She realized she was staring. Why didn't the lights come on? She wanted to get out of here. She moved away, putting the end of a bleacher between them, and stacked the last folders into the box. Forget the rest of the work for tonight. All she wanted to do now was leave.
But the continuing silence made her uneasy. He was just standing there, unmoving, watching her. Why didn't he say something?
"Did you come looking for somebody?" She was annoyed with herself for being the one to speak.
He was still gazing at her, those dark eyes fixed on her in a way that made her more and more uncomfortable. She swallowed.
With his eyes on her lips, he murmured, "Oh, yes." "What?" She'd forgotten what she'd asked. Her cheeks and throat were flushing, burning with blood. She felt so light-headed. If only he'd stoplooking at her...
"Yes, I came here looking for someone," he repeated, no louder than before. Then, in one step he moved toward her, so that they were separated only by the corner of one bleacher seat.