pdouglas.thecodex-第22部分

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ndle。
　Sally　was　still　standing　in　the　prow；　unconcerned。　〃Tom；　they're　shooting　into　the　air。　They're　not　going　to　risk　hitting　us。　We're　Americans。〃
　There　was　a　second　burst　of　gunfire。　This　time　Tom　distinctly　heard　the　slap　of　bullets　hitting　the　water　around　them。　Instantly　Sally　landed　on　the　floor　of　the　dugout　next　to　him。　〃Jesus　Christ；　they　are　shooting　at　us！〃　she　cried。
　Tom　reached　up　and　shoved　the　tiller　sideways；　sending　the　dugout　into　a　sharp　evasive　maneuver。　There　were　two　more　short　bursts　of　gunfire。　This　time　he　heard　the　whine　of　bullets　overhead　and　to　the　left；　like　bees。　They　were　evidently　aiming　for　the　sound　of　the　engine；　raking　the　water　back　and　forth　with　their　automatic　weapons。　And　they　were　most　definitely　shooting　to　kill。
　He　steered　the　boat　on　a　zigzag　course；　trying　to　throw　the　shooters　off　their　aim。　At　each　lull；　Sally　raised　her　head　and　shined　the　light　ahead　so　they　could　see　where　they　were　going。　They　would　be　safe；　at　least　for　the　moment；　once　they　got　around　the　bend　in　the　river。
　There　was　another　burst；　and　this　time　several　rounds　nicked　the　gunwale；　showering　them　with　splinters。
　〃Shit！〃
　〃We　will　e　and　get　you！〃　rose　up　the　voice　of　the　lieutenant；　fainter　now。　〃We　will　find　you；　and　then　you　will　be　very　sorry　for　the　very　short　remainder　of　your　very　miserable　lives。〃
　Tom　counted　to　twenty　and　risked　another　look　ahead。　Slowly　the　boat　came　around　the　bend；　out　of　the　line　of　fire。　Tom　steered　as　close　to　the　wall　of　vegetation　as　he　dared。　As　they　went　around　the　bend；　the　lights　at　the　little　landing　flickered　through　the　leaves　and　then　were　gone。
　They　had　made　it。
　There　was　another　halfhearted　burst　of　gunfire。　Tom　heard　a　snipping　and　cracking　in　the　jungle　to　their　left　as　the　bullets　were　stopped　by　the　trees。　The　sounds　echoed　away　and　the　river　fell　silent。
　Tom　helped　Sally　up。　Her　face　looked　white；　almost　ghostly；　in　the　dim　light。　He　shined　the　flashlight　around。　Two　walls　of　trees　rose　up　on　either　side　of　the　dark　river。　A　single　star　burned　for　a　moment　in　a　patch　of　exposed　sky；　then　blinked　and　flickered　through　the　canopy　as　they　moved。　The　little　engine　whined　away。　For　now　they　were　alone　on　the　river。　The　dark；　humid　night　enfolded　them。
　Tom　took　Sally's　hand。　He　found　it　was　shaking；　and　then　he　realized　his　own　hand　was　shaking；　too。　The　soldiers　had　shot　at　them；　trying　to　kill　them。　He　had　seen　it　a　million　times　in　the　movies；　but　to　actually　be　shot　at　was　something　else　entirely。
　The　moon　was　setting　behind　the　wall　of　jungle；　and　darkness　suffocated　the　river。　Tom　flicked　on　the　flashlight　to　see　what　lay　ahead；　guiding　the　boat　around　snags　and　riffles。　A　growing　cloud　of　mosquitoes　whined　around　them。　They　seemed　to　be　sweeping　up　thousands　as　they　traveled。
　〃I　don't　suppose　you　have　a　can　of　bug　repellent　in　one　of　those　pockets　of　yours？〃　Tom　asked。
　〃As　a　matter　of　fact；　I　did　manage　to　snag　my　fanny　pack　in　the　jeep。　I　shoved　it　in　my　pants。〃　She　fished　the　small　pack　out　of　an　enormous　pocket　on　her　thigh　and　unzipped　it。　She　began　rummaging　through；　pulling　out　a　miscellany　of　things…a　bottle　of　water…purification　tablets；　some　packs　of　waterproof　matches；　a　roll　of　hundred…dollar　bills；　a　map；　a　chocolate　bar；　a　passport；　some　useless　credit　cards。
　〃I'm　not　even　sure　what's　in　here。〃
　She　began　sorting　through　the　jumble　of　items　while　Tom　held　the　flashlight。　There　was　no　bottle　of　bug　stuff。　She　swore　and　began　putting　everything　back。　As　she　did　so；　a　photograph　fell　out。　Tom　shined　the　light　on　it。　It　showed　a　strikingly　handsome　young　man　with　dark　eyebrows　and　a　chiseled　chin。　The　grave　expression　that　furrowed　his　dark　eyebrows；　the　firm　full　set　of　his　lips；　the　tweed　jacket；　and　the　way　he　tilted　his　head　all　showed　him　to　be　a　man　who　took　himself　very　seriously　indeed。
　〃Who's　that？〃　Tom　asked。
　〃Oh；〃　said　Sally。　〃That's　Professor　Clyve。〃
　〃That's　Clyve？　Why；　he's　so　young！　I　imagined　him　to　be　some　dotty　old　man　in　a　cardigan　puffing　on　a　pipe。〃
　〃He　wouldn't　be　happy　to　hear　you　say　that。　He's　the　youngest　full　professor　in　the　history　of　the　department。　He　entered　Stanford　at　sixteen；　graduated　at　nineteen；　and　had　his　Ph。D。　by　the　time　he　was　twenty…two。　He's　a　true　genius。〃　She　carefully　tucked　the　photo　back　into　her　pocket。
　〃Why　are　you　carrying　around　a　photo　of　your　professor？〃
　〃Why；〃　said　Sally　lightly；　〃we're　engaged。　Didn't　I　tell　you？〃
　〃No。〃
　Sally　looked　at　him　curiously。　〃You　don't　have　a　problem　with　that；　do　you？〃
　〃Of　course　not。〃　Tom　felt　his　face　flushing　and　hoped　the　darkness　would　hide　it。　He　was　aware　she　was　glaring　at　him　in　the　dim　light。
　〃You　seemed　surprised。〃
　〃Well；　I　was。　After　all；　you're　not　wearing　an　engagement　ring。〃
　〃Professor　Clyve　doesn't　believe　in　those　bourgeois　conventions。〃
　〃And　it　was　okay　with　him　that　you　just　e　on　this　trip　with　me…？〃　Tom　broke　off；　realizing　he　had　said　exactly　the　wrong　thing。
　〃You　think　I　have　to　get　permission　from　'my　man'　to　go　on　a　trip？　Or　are　you　somehow　implying　that　I'm　not　to　be　trusted　sexually？〃　She　tilted　her　head；　looking　at　him　with　narrowed　eyes。
　Tom　looked　away。　〃Sorry　I　asked。〃
　〃So　am　I。　Somehow　I　thought　you　were　more　enlightened　than　that。〃
　Tom　busied　himself　driving　the　boat；　hiding　his　embarrassment　and　confusion。　The　river　was　silent；　the　swampy　night　heat　flowed　past　them。　A　bird　cried　in　the　darkness。　In　the　silence　that　followed；　Tom　heard　a　noise。
　Tom　immediately　switched　off　the　engine；　his　heart　pounding。　The　sound　came　again；　the　sputter　of　an　outboard　starter　being　pulled。　A　hush　fell　over　the　river。　The　boat　coasted。
　〃They　found　some　gas。　They're　ing　after　us。〃
　The　boat　was　starting　to　drift　back　down　with　the　current。　Tom　unshipped　a　pole　from　the　bottom　of　the　boat　and　stuck　it　in　the　water。　The　boat　swung　a　little　to　the　current　and　steadied。　Holding　the　boat　still　in　the　current；　they　listened。　There　was　another　sputter　and　then　a　roar。　The　roar　subsided　into　a　hum。　There　could　be　no　doubt：　It　was　the　sound　of　an　outboard。
　Tom　went　to　restart　their　engine。
　〃Don't；〃　said　Sally。　〃They'll　hear　it。〃
　〃We　can't　outpole　them。〃
　〃We　can't　outrace　them　either。　They'll　be　on　us　in　five　minutes　with　that　eighteen…horse。〃　Sally　flashed　the　light　along　the　wall　of　jungle　on　either　side　of　the　water。　The　water　extended　into　the　trees　and　spread　out；　drowning　the　jungle。　〃We　can　hide　instead。〃
　Tom　poled　the　dugout　toward　the　edge　of　the　flooded　forest。　There　was　a　small　opening…a　narrow　lane　of　water　that　looked　like　it　might　have　been　a　stream　in　drier　times。　He　poled　up　it；　and　the　boat　promptly　bumped　into　something：　a　sunken　log。
　〃Out；〃　Tom　said。
　The　water　was　only　a　foot　deep；　but　underneath　it　was　another　two　feet　of　mud；　which　they　sank　into　with　a　flurry　of　bubbles。　A　foul　stench　of　marsh　gas　rose　up。　The　back　of　the　boat　was　still　sticking　out　into　the　river；　where　it　would　be　instantly　spotted。
　〃Lift　and　push。〃
　They　struggled　to　get　the　nose　of　the　boat　up　on　the　log　and　then；　heaving　together；　pushed　the　boat　across。　Then　they　scrambled　over　it　themselves　and　climbed　back　in。　The　sound　of　the　Evinrude　grew　louder。　The　soldiers'　boat　was　ing　up　the　river　fast。
　Sally　picked　up　the　second　pole；　and　they　both　poled　forward；　deeper　into　the　flooded　forest。　Tom　switched　off　the　flashlight；　and　a　moment　later　a　powerful　light　came　blinking　through　the　trees。
　〃We're　still　too　close；〃　said　Tom。　〃They'll　see　us。〃　He　tried　to　pole；　but　the　pole　sank　into　the　muck　and　stuck。　He　jerked　it　out　and　laid　it　in　the　bottom　of　the　boat；　grabbing　some　hanging　vines　instead　and　using　them　to　pull　the　boat　deeper　into　the　forest；　halfway　into　a　thicket　of　ferns　and　bushes。　The　Evinrude　was　almost　on　them。　The　spotlight　flashed　through　the　forest　just　as　Tom　grabbed　Sally　and　pulled　her　down　to　the　bottom　of　the　dugout；　and　they　lay　side　by　side；　his　arm　around　her。　Tom　prayed　that　the　soldiers　wouldn't　see　their　engine。
　The　sound　of　the　motorboat　grew　very　loud。　The　boat　had　slowed　down；　and　the　spotlight　was　probing　the　forest　where　they　were　hidden。　Tom　could　hear　the　crackle　of　a　walkie…talkie；　the　murmur　of　voices。　T