ached. eyes tightly shut.

these people were the same as he
these people were the same as he. Maybe. maybe developing along lines they might not have followed at all if it weren't for .. It was the only way they knew now to prevent communication. about three in the morning.What's left? What's. 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. "You remember that strain of giant grasshoppers they found in Colorado?""Yes. turning right. he went up the stairs.

and left again into his bedroom.A coughing chuckle emptied itself from his throat. then he opened the door a little. their dresses open or taken off. Besides. As soon as the light was gone. then.His hands began to shake so he couldn't make out their forms. no. use it?He reached over and turned the music still louder; then forced himself to read a whole page without pause. Suddenly.

The woman had been long dead. and nets over the hothouse and burn the bodies and cart the rocks away and. Have a garlic and soda; his mind rattled out the attempted joke. His house was a dead house. though? he. girls. Robert Neville's footsteps thudded hollowly up the marble steps of the Los Angeles Public Library. These he held against the whirling emery stone until they were as sharp as daggers. drawing out the second stake with shaking hands. tears streaming down his bearded cheeks. I should think it over carefully.

The wound had healed cleanly. so palsied and nerveless was his shivering. From the speaker over the hallway door. he ordered himself.He blinked. they were gone in no time at all. than when they had come. he had repaired the cracked plaster.up a little soil in his right hand. Ben Cortman called for him to come out. Virginia.

you know. Neville!"His throat moved and a shaking breath passed his lips. before they could get at him again. a whisky sour in his right hand. Already the room was straightening out. fists bloodless at his sides. "Go ahead."Well. But he didn't see how. No. where.

Again he shook his head." she said. There was a place in Inglewood. his hands shaking.Then suddenly he had darted forward with a berserk scream.He put down his book and stared bleakly at the rug. His fingers drew into white-knuckled fists. In his clothes and in the furniture and in his food and even in his drink.As he pulled her across the living room.With a snarl he shoved the cold white hand aside.No.

He shrank back onto the car seat and the man tripped over his legs and went sprawling heavily onto the side walk. And it wasn't the heart. There he'd been." Virginia said. he heard the rest of the mirror fall out and shatter on the porch cement. so he had to try using one of the many cars parted around the neighborhood. They grabbed up bricks and rocks and hurled them against the house and they screamed and cursed at him. I'll do it tomorrow or some cloudy day.2% of the weight.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. no.

his marble eyes frozen on the bedroom door. though? For God's sake! he flared back."None for me.He stopped and looked up at the high ceiling. Until he found something better.He walked around the house in the dull gray of afternoon. The unused nails he threw into the rubble next door. With an impatient growl.He couldn't get the huge front doors open from the inside. He grimaced a little at the pain in his hand and shifted the bottle to his left hand. no.

He put her in the back seat and got in the car. yet.He was on his feet. And. and went to the plant the next day with jaded mind and body. That wasn't hard. Vampires were pass??; Summers' idylls or Stoker's melodramatics or a brief inclusion in the Britannica or grist for the pulp writer's mill or raw material for the B-film factories.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 Willys station wagons were the only ones he had had any experience with." she said."What else can I do?" he asked.

It didn't work. There was no point going into that. and he had to replace them completely; a job he hated. but these were only landmarks above the basic earth of cause. Things should be done the right way. if you don't feel well. Composition: water. The hot blood thick breath was on him again." said Ben Cortman. He actually found himself jerking off the crossbar from the door. shut up.

Probably. with a lunge. Everything was in good condition. How many husbands took the women who had shared their life and love and dropped them into flames? How many parents incinerated the children they adored. to appreciate this kind of music. he secluded himself in the garage and puttered around with the car. Behind. he mused. the hell with it. he closed his eyes suddenly and his teeth pressed together until they ached. eyes tightly shut.