A sound like footsteps outside the tent shocked me out of half-sleep. Another camper？ Not likely. We were far from the main trails and hadn’t seen a backpacker in three days.
　　Maybe it was no one at all. Maybe a twig or pine cone had dropped from a nearby tree. Or maybe the smell of food had drawn an animal to our camp. A big animal.
　　I heard it again—a dry crushing sound. I was afraid to move， but forced myself to roll over and see if Sadie was awake.
　　She was gone.
　　I looked down the length of my mummy bag2. The unzipped screen was swaying inward. A cool dampsmelling breeze touched my face， and I remembered Sadie leaving the tent. How long ago？ No way to tell. Maybe I had dozed for an hour， maybe for a minute. At any rate， it was high time for her to come in so we could close the flaps.
　　“Hey， Sadie， why don’t you get in here？”
　　I heard only the stream several yards from our campsite. It made a racket like a gale blowing through a forest.3
　　“Sadie？” I called.
　　Nothing.
　　“Saay-deee！”
　　She must have wandered out of earshot. Okay. It was a fine night， cold but clear， with a moon so round and white you could sit up for hours enjoying it. That’s what we’d done， in fact， before turning in. I couldn’t blame her for taking her time out there.
　　“Enjoy yourself，” I muttered， and shut my eyes. My feet were a bit cold. I rubbed them together through my sweat socks， curled up， and adjusted the roll of jeans beneath my head. I was just beginning to get comfortable when somebody close to the tent coughed.
　　It wasn’t Sadie.
　　My heart froze.
　　“Who’s out there？” I called.
　　“Only me，” said a man’s low voice， and the tent began to shake violently. “Come outa there！”
　　“What do you want？”
　　“Make it quick.”
　　“Stop jerking4 the tent.” I took my knife from its sheath5 on the belt of my jeans.
　　The tent went motionless. “I’ve got a shotgun，” the man said. “Come out there before I count five or I’ll blast apart the tent with you in it. One.”
　　I scurried6 out of my sleeping bag.
　　“Two.”
　　“Hey， can’t you wait till I get dressed？”
　　“Three. Come out with your hands empty， four.”
　　I stuck the knife down the side of my sweat sock， handle first to keep it from falling out， and crawled through the flaps.
　　“Five， you just made it.”
　　I stood up， feeling twigs and pine cones under my feet， and looked into the grinning， bearded face of a man. He had no shotgun. Only my hand-ax. I scanned the near bank of the stream behind him. No sign of Sadie. 　　“Where’s the shotgun？” I asked. Then I clamped7 my mouth shut to keep my teeth quiet.
　　The man gave a dry， vicious laugh. “Take that knife outa your sock.”
　　I looked down. I was wearing only shorts and socks， and the moonlight made the knife blade shine silvery against my calf.
　　“Take it out slowly，” he warned.
　　“No.”
　　“Want to see your wife again？ If I give the signal， my buddy will kill her. Slit her open like a wet sack.”
　　“You’ve got Sadie？”
　　“Back in the trees. Now， the knife.”
　　“Not a chance.” I pressed my knees together to keep them from banging against each other. “You’ll kill us both anyway.”
　　“Naw. All we want’s your food and gear. See， we gotta do some camping. You understand， pal.” He grinned as if a glimpse of his big crooked8 teeth would help me understand better. It did.
　　“What did you do？” I asked， trying to stall9 for time. “Rob a bank？”
　　“That， too. Now are you gonna get rid of that knife or do I signal Jake to start cutting？”
　　“Better signal Jake，” I said， and grabbed my knife.
　　“You sure？”
　　“I’m sure. Just one favor， though. Do you mind if I tell my wife goodbye？”
　　He grinned again. “Go on.”
　　“Thanks，” I said. Then I yelled， “Goodbye， Sadie！ Sadie！ Goodbye， Sadie！”
　　“Enough.” He came forward， holding the ax high， shaking it gently as if testing the weight of its head. All the time， he grinned.
　　My knife flew end over end， glinting moonlight， and struck him square in the chest. Hilt10 first.
　　He kept coming. Finally I backed into a tree. Its bark felt damp and cold and rough against my skin.
　　“There’s no Jake，” I said to distract him.
　　“So what？” he answered.
　　I raised my hands to block the ax and wondered if it would hurt for long.
　　Then a chilling， deep-throated howl shook the night. A mastiff splashed through the stream.11 The man had no time to turn. He only had time to scream before Sadie， snarling12， took him down and began to rip his throat.
　　帳篷外像脚步一样的声音将我从似睡非睡中惊醒。又一个野营者？不太可能。我们离那些主道很远，而且已经三天没看到一个背包客了。
　　也许那里根本没人。也许是小树枝或松果从附近的一棵树上掉了下来。也许是食物的气味将一只动物吸引到了我们的帐篷边。一只大动物。
　　我又一次听到了那声音──东西被压碎的干巴巴的声音。
　　我吓得不敢动，但还是强迫自己翻过身看萨迪是不是醒了。
　　她已经不见了。
　　我低头顺着木乃伊式睡袋向前看去。那扇拉开的帘门向里晃动着。一阵凉爽的闻起来潮湿的轻风抚摸着我的脸，我才想起萨迪离开了帐篷。多长时间了？说不清楚。也许我已经打了一小时的盹，也许是一分钟。不管怎么说，该到她进来、我们关门的时间了。
　　“嘿，萨迪，你为什么不进来呢？”
　　我听到的只有离我们营地几码远的那条小溪的声音。小溪发出了喧嚣声，就像是一阵大风穿过了一片森林。
　　“萨迪？”我喊道。 　　没有回音。
　　“萨──迪──！”
　　她一定是走得太远，听不见我的喊声了。还好。这是一个美丽的夜晚，虽寒冷但清亮，月亮又圆又白，你可以在那里连坐几个小时欣赏月光。事实上，睡觉前，我们就是那样做的。我不会责备她在外面溜达的。
　　“那你好好玩吧，”我咕哝着，闭上了眼睛。两只脚有点儿冷，我隔着短袜搓着它们，身体蜷缩起来，然后调整了一下头下面的那个牛仔裤卷。我刚想舒坦一下，突然有人靠近帐篷，咳嗽了一声。
　　那不是萨迪。
　　我的心缩成了一团。
　　“谁在外面？”我大声问道。
　　“就我一个人，”一个男人低声说，随后帐篷开始剧烈摇晃起来，“从那里出来！”
　　“你要干什么？”
　　“快点儿。”
　　“别拽帐篷。”我从牛仔裤皮带的刀鞘里抽出刀。
　　帐篷不动了。“我有猎枪，”那人说，“我数到五，从那里出来，否则我就把帐篷和你打得稀巴烂。一。”
　　我匆匆钻出了睡袋。
　　“二。”
　　“嘿，你能等到我穿好衣服吗？”
　　“三。空手出来，四。”
　　我将刀顺着短袜边插进去，把柄朝下，以防它掉出来，随后爬出了帐篷。
　　“五，你刚好做到。”
　　我站起来，踩到了脚下的小树枝和松果，然后看到了一个龇牙咧嘴、胡子拉碴的男人。他没带猎枪，只有一把我的手斧。我扫视了一下他身后那条小溪附近的岸边。没见萨迪的影子。
　　“猎枪在哪里？”我问，随后闭上嘴默然无声。那个人发出了干巴巴、恶狠狠的笑声：“把你短袜里那把刀拿出来。”
　　我低下头，见自己只穿着短裤和短袜，月光下刀刃在我的小腿肚上發着银光。
　　“慢慢地抽出来。”他警告说。
　　“不。”
　　“还想再见到你妻子吗？只要我发出信号，我的搭档就会杀了你妻子。将她像一个湿麻袋一样划开。”
　　“你们逮住了萨迪？”
　　“在后面的树林里。快，交出那把刀。”
　　“不可能，”我将膝盖并在一起，以免它们相互碰撞，“不管怎样，你都会杀了我们的。”
　　“不。我们想要的就是你们的食物和衣服。看到了吧，我们必须得搞一些东西野营。你明白的，伙计。”他咧嘴笑了一下，好像亮一下他的大龅牙就能让我更好地明白似的。的确如此。
　　“你刚才做了什么？”我问，尽力拖延时间，“抢银行？”
　　“也算是吧。现在你要么丢开那把刀，要么我给杰克一个信号让他动手？”
　　“那你还是给杰克一个信号吧。”我说着，抓紧了那把刀。“你确定吗？”
　　“我确定。不过，我有一个请求。我跟妻子告个别，你介意吗？”
　　他又咧嘴笑了笑：“你说吧。”
　　“谢谢，”我说，然后大声喊道：“再见，萨迪！萨迪！再见，萨迪！”
　　“够了。”他走上前，将那把斧头高高举起，轻轻抖动了一下，好像是掂一下斧头的重量。他一直都在咧嘴笑着。
　　我手里那把刀飞了出去，翻滚着，闪动着银色的月光，然后正打在他的胸口。刀柄在前。
　　他继续朝我逼近。最后，我退到了一棵树前。树皮贴着我的皮肤，感觉湿湿的、冷冷的，非常粗糙。
　　“并没有什么杰克。”我说，想分散他的注意力。
　　“那又怎么样？”他反问道。
　　我抬起两只手想挡住那把斧子，心里想着如果被砍了，会不会疼很久。
　　随后，一声骇人的、从喉咙深处发出的嗥叫震撼了夜晚。一只獒犬穿过那条小溪，弄得水花四溅。那人都来不及转身。他只尖叫了一声，萨迪就狂吠着将他扑倒，开始撕咬他的喉咙了。
　　1. 本文为美国悬疑惊悚小说作家理查德·莱蒙（Richard Carl Laymon， 1947—2001）的短篇小说。
　　2. mummy bag： 轻便睡袋，木乃伊型睡袋。
　　3. racket： 吵闹声，喧嚷声；gale：狂风。
　　4. jerk： 猛拉。
　　5. sheath： （刀或剑的）鞘。
　　6. scurry： 赶忙，急走。
　　7. clamp： 夹紧，控制住。
　　8. crooked： 参差不齐的。
　　9. stall：（故意停顿以）拖延时间。
　　10. hilt：（刀剑或匕首的）柄，把。
　　11. mastiff： 獒，大驯犬；splash： 啪啦啪啦地趟水。
　　12. snarl：（动物龇牙咧嘴地）怒吠，咆哮。