By Richard Laymon

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 hadnt 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 dont 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. Thats what wed done， in fact， before turning in. I couldnt 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 wasnt Sadie.

My heart froze.

“Whos out there？” I called.

“Only me，” said a mans 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. “Ive got a shotgun，” the man said. “Come out there before I count five or Ill blast apart the tent with you in it. One.”

I scurried6 out of my sleeping bag.

“Two.”

“Hey， cant 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.

“Wheres 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.”

“Youve 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. “Youll kill us both anyway.”

“Naw. All we wants 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？”

“Im 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.

“Theres 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。……