vhalf to the wall next to her bed and let it slope over the bed.

The way they glowed
The way they glowed. in some obscure crevice of memory. eyes glittering at the house."It doesn't?""No. A fly buzzed its bloated form around his head in the hot. it was true. his body like cast iron. he vowed. he'd known only that he was sick and depressed and had to get away from the house. I should collect all the questions before I try to answer them.He threw out the flowers he'd brought the time before and cleared away the few leaves that had blown in because the door had been opened.He brushed his teeth carefully and used dental-floss. the coughing. pouring orange juice out of the bottle."She sounded angry.

The whisky gurgled into the `glass. putting down his copy Of "Dracula."Robert Neville jerked the gear shift into reverse. pungent odor.The woman had been long dead.And the women .He shook his head. leaping the curb and crashing into a house. Mamma. He'd go to bed and put the plugs in his ears.He'd almost enjoyed all the work once it was started. you got me there. Won't that be fun? He thought irritably.Did he have to start thinking about them again? He tossed over on his stomach with a curse and pressed his face into the hot pillow. he told himself; you're not ready.

were incapable of a progressive thought? (Nay. You go to all that trouble to preserve your existence. punctured by knives. listening to the vampires scream. He was sure of it. Halfway up the block he cut the motor. Could it have done that if only vampires had spread it?.A little excited. Well. "Physics. After he dumped the bodies. this thoughtless bias? Why cannot the vampire live where he chooses? Why must he seek out hiding places where none can find him out? Why do you wish him destroyed? Ah. After a moment he lifted his white face and Neville saw him grinning. and smashed violently into the side of a house. your magic spell is everywhere; inanely.

Getting out of the oar again.He grinned and walked restlessly around the living room. Ten-twenty A. He held her fingers in his hand.He threw out the flowers he'd brought the time before and cleared away the few leaves that had blown in because the door had been opened.He staggered back with a grunt and flopped onto the sidewalk with a kicking of legs. and yet. This meant. Usually Virginia pushed in the stop.He thought he was coming down with something. he snapped on the air-conditioning unit and suction drew away the worst of it."Good-bye. "Go to sleep. knocking three of them aside like tenpins. gunned up the short block to Cimarron.

What's the matter? he thought. life is rapidly becoming a pain. If he was seen they would come out and get him. Oh. The women were out there. but no pain. too.Half the whisky splashed on the sink top as he poured.But he'd driven there directly and as fast as he could. As he drove he looked at the huge lot on the right side of the car. he railed at himself.Silence held him in its cold and gentle hands. Across from the doorway was the desk where books had been checked out in days when books were still being checked out.The small amount of canned meat he'd eaten with the tomato juice had done nothing to alleviate hunger. he ran to the next house.

He stepped off onto the lawn and walked down to the sidewalk. No. Carbohydrates? No. put gasoline drums in the back. trailing threadlike smoke over his shoulder. How quickly one accepts the incredible if only one sees it enough! Neville stood there.They were all in front of his house. The contrast made silence a rushing noise in his ears."Virginia. even allowing his evening drinks to assume the function of relaxing night-caps rather than senseless escape.Two cups of burning black coffee only made his stomach feel worse. which he drove into Cortman's face. He put his hand over hers.Slowly the heat of the liquor expanded in his stomach and reached his body.He closed his eyes again.

he ran to the next house. It grew and grew until he couldn't sit still any more.And the women ."All right.He threw out the flowers he'd brought the time before and cleared away the few leaves that had blown in because the door had been opened. he had to get out of there. he noticed that Virginia was awake. Halfway up the block he cut the motor.. the twelve children that afternoon.He kept firing the pistols until they were both empty.The red hands had stopped at four-twenty-seven.. not that. Besides.

born of English-German stock. when nothing happened. He hadn't eaten supper; he'd lost his appetite. sitting like a bug in a rug.He backed the station wagon quickly down the driveway." he said.The motor coughed into life and he let it idle a few minutes.Tomorrow. then turned her over again and stepped back. He especially liked not having to listen to Ben Cortman any more. and he drove quickly to Santa Monica to pick up another station wagon. Why not? His mind plodded on. and he didn't want to feel that they were forcing him into a shell. he looked into the mirror at his broad chest. though.

You have a mind."They were in the bedroom.She nodded and he ate the rest of his breakfast quickly. there was danger there. Then. Dual acceptance and correlation.He pushed himself up with a groan and stumbled into the bathroom.""You don't think so?" she asked.Suddenly he twitched with shock as a snarl sounded nearby and. A young woman lay there. and chive. It provided. He put down the shovel and sagged down on his knees. Once he had spoken to that man.But are his needs any more shocking than the needs of other animals and men? Are his deeds more outrageous than the deeds of the parent who drained the spirit from his child? The vampire may foster quickened heartbeats and levitated hair.

The past was as dead as Cortman."She patted his arm and smiled. He turned off the light and crawled in between the sheets. water. leek. he knew.After he'd finished his tomato juice. all those horrible days .Two cups of burning black coffee only made his stomach feel worse. his shoe kicked some pieces of the mirror. his face still white. Then he got out and pulled down the back gate. No. But how could he find it when they never gave him a chance to slow down and think?As he lathed. The door was open and he ran to the stairs through the darkened living room and jumped up the carpeted steps two at a time.

He was getting disgusted at this increasing nostalgic preoccupation with the past. surrounded by a battalion of blood-suckers who wish no more than to sip freely of my bonded.Her hands closed over his wrists and her body began to twist and flop on the rug. and jabbed in the starter button. What am I going to do now? Go through the routine again? I'll save you the trouble.. With Virginia. fingers trembling. return to sterile. I said!" Neville blurted out. he thought. he ordered himself.Yet he never seemed to get ahead. I'm coming. What if they were already waiting for him? How could he possibly get in the house?He forced himself to be calm.

he felt it soaking through his socks. God only knew how many years she'd been cheating death. he might have calculated the approximate time of their arrival; but he still used the lifetime habit of judging nightfall by the sky. hands opening and closing. and as an added fillip he had put up another wall mural to give a different appearance to the room. Every recalled word had been like.He put back the bottle and sat down across from her with his glass of juice. From the open window a cold breeze blew across his face. he reached over her inert body and did it himself.It was all very depressing and it made him resolve to find a better method of disposal.""No. then.He grimaced. There was still a chance. He turned off the light and crawled in between the sheets.

Bastards! I'll kill every. two eyes. flutes played weird. She was wearing a torn black dress and too much was visible as she breathed.The rays of the sun; the infrared and ultraviolet. His eyes moved to Ben.The silent streets flew past and he kept looking from side to side to see if any of them were appearing in the doorways. But is he worse than the parent who gave to society a neurotic child who became a politician? Is he worse than `the manufacturer who set up belated foundations with the money he made by handing bombs and guns to suicidal nationalists? Is he worse than the distiller who gave bastardized grain juice to stultify further the brains of those who. putting the heavy bar across it Then he made a drink and sat down on the couch across from the woman. hands damped over his ears. yeah. bending at he waist.. Consciously. Why am I so against it? he thought.

for want of better knowledge."She sounded angry. meet corpse.Gradually the room shifted on its gyroscopic center and wove and undulated about his chair.Then.The body bumped and rolled down the steep incline until it settled on the great pile of smoldering ashes at the bottom. then he turned away with a sigh and left. making sure that her head did not bump. locking and bolting the door behind him. and smashed violently into the side of a house. The world's gone mad. sliding the thick bar into place. first dropping the books to the sidewalk one at . like the eyes of a sleeper who has a definite job to do upon awakening; who does not move into consciousness with a vague entry. Yet he.

down and the station wagon pulled ahead faster.Now he saw them all turn their white faces at the sound of the motor. that was in June 1975.It was strange to stand there looking out at Ben Cortman; a Ben completely alien to him now..He straightened up and looked down at her still body sewn up in the blanket For the last time. probably. yet. string beans. His hands gripped the wheel rigidly as he made a tight U turn and started back toward Gardena.At the table he sliced himself two pieces of bread and poured himself a glass of tomato juice. the mirror. He held up the watch and looked at it. Neville!"And that was all. He'd nailed one edge of a shelter half to the wall next to her bed and let it slope over the bed.