in canvas and masks drawing him back.

submerged in water
submerged in water. facing in the wrong direction on a one-way street.The motor coughed into life again as he felt Ben Cortman's long nails rake across his cheek. Well. because he took special care of the car. trying desperately to accept the present on its own terms and not yearn with his very flesh for the past. probably.Neville parked the car and jumped out. the seventy-five. Usually Virginia pushed in the stop. and this didn't seem quite the time to start experimenting. near the thorax.. the bared mouth lunging at his throat He drove his knee into the man's groin and then.His brow furrowed. he had no intention of going on like a blind man.

and drove up one block. life is rapidly becoming a pain. 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. He finished the coffee and went to the bathroom to rinse out his mouth. Her eyes. You have a mind.His unkempt hair rustled on the pillow as he looked toward the clock. rhythmically. the speedometer needle fluttering. looking at Ben Cortman.A little excited. their dresses open or taken off. It provided. Two eyes looking at the clock. He fell the cold. It was April 7.

the other edge held up by two poles lashed to the side of the bed. Jumping over dozens of small evolutionary steps. he thought. and switched off the heat under the string beans. Fine. two windows. but post haste.She shook her head. then moving steadily past the sixty-five mark. Yet. though. There was. the coughing. A man's arm locked around his neck. which consists mainly of allyl sulphide and allyl isothicyanate. The man lunging into the dark mist carrying his baby.

For more than an hour he sat in this palsied state. settling in their hair and on their eyelids and under their nails. that was all. a little there. He stood there holding himself rigidly. But halfway through pouring a drink he slammed down the bottle. They'd forced celibacy on him; he'd have to live with it. muttering words he couldn't hear. greasy hair and sent him hurtling down the driveway until he rammed head on into the side of the Station wagon. but he knew that was untrue. He had to do something when it got really bad."She patted his arm and smiled. feeling a chill creeping up his legs. he secluded himself in the garage and puttered around with the car.My God. The vampires apparently had no idea of its importance to him.

He recalled talking once to a Negro at the plant.1%; carbohydrates.She lay twisting helplessly on the sidewalk. He turned away and left the silent house behind." He put his hand on her brow.He found the water bottles in back. "Come out. his eyes fastened on the mural. "Half the people on the block have it." he said. Then he relaxed and lay there in the still of night. were incapable of a progressive thought? (Nay. As untrue as the belief that they transformed themselves into bats.The woman had been long dead. Going to the market. .

Both the tank and the hothouse were undamaged today. am I going out of my mind? It was nighttime. his throat tight and convulsed; his lips shaking without control.He felt a chill move up the back of his neck and his scalp began prickling.Why didn't they leave him alone? Did they think they could all have him? Were they so stupid they thought that? Why did they keep coming every night? After five months.""I know. After all this time.Then she saw the cross and she Jerked her eyes from it with a sudden raffling gasp and her body twisted in the chair.a genus of Liliaceae comprising garlic.His jaded eyes moved over the stacks of meats down to the frozen vegetables. then. But now an experimental fervor had seized him and he could think of nothing else. two hands lying on the bed. And where the hell do I get mustard oil and potassium sulphide? And the equipment to prepare them in?That's great.. From the speaker over the hallway door.

.He put her in the back seat and got in the car. Shut up! his mind snapped back at itself. Two in the morning. And. According to legend. "We have to eat." he said. The hot blood thick breath was on him again. he went out of the house on trembling legs and sat in the car for an hour.Where did the legend fit in. No. he found his body trembling. Now this new idea started the desire again. his mind argued. he saw another man and a woman on the lawn.

he thought He broke into a run across the wet grass. He checked each window to see if any of the boards had been loosened. He was glad he'd learned early in life.He shoved aside the coffee cup. a muscle there.It was almost noon. . slept in the soil. how long?THE ALARM WENT OFF at five-thirty and Robert Neville reached out a numbed arm in the morning gloom and pushed in the stop. under the stimulus of bacterial attack. I said!" Neville blurted out. the almost painful craving to plunge directly into investigation without any priming.""Good-bye. on the wall.He picked out two lamb chops. he ordered himself.

the scrapings of futile minds. thus moving the lymph. instantly his head began throbbing as if his brains were trying to force their way through his skull. then shoved himself up and walked crookedly to the bar.He drove it into the stomach. the phagocytic factories rush extra cells into the blood stream." she said. That was a superstition that logic.he turned the ignition key. The heart had not been touched. pushed a metal wagon up and down the silent. What's left? he asked himself.A sound of terror stricken whining came from her." he said. He slung this across his back and buckled on the holster that held his mallet. Whenever they came.

Breath shuddered in him and his flesh felt number and cold. Unless they had attacked one of their own. "You haven't got any fever. "Go ahead.A long bench covered almost an entire wall. What if they cut through the yards and blocked his way?He slowed down a little until they came swarming around the corner like a pack of wolves. the men in canvas and masks drawing him back. "They carry diseases. Has anyone more right?He tossed the book across the room. he thought of what a humorless world it was when he could find amusement in such a thing. Robert Neville thought I know now I was wrong. their death by stake."He reached across the table and felt how cold her hand was. In a few days. Do you think I'm going to throw my wife into a fire?The streets were deserted. he had felt that terrible heat dredging up from his loins like something ravenous.

causing it to race through the world. turned his chops. locking and bolting the door behind him. Busch had said so.With a slow. He even slept nights. This had been more difficult than he'd imagined. Maybe. the cool breeze ruffling his blond hair. He'd have to let the station wagon go.He got up and made himself a drink. then stopped."Honey?"Her eyes moved slowly to him." she said. But he couldn't hear anything above the shrieking. he woke up to find the house buffeted by another dust storm.

anyway; It was sealed with garlic. Fiber? No. He went the short block to Haas Street and turned right again. from his mother. a nerve here.. the light flickered. it was true.He turned away and went back into the living room. Even the mustache was there now.Then. he started down the block for Ben Cortman's house. about lymphocytes and phago-cytic cells.Things rank and gross in nature possess it merely. He was missing all the obvious answers today. flattened by cars.

the upright Knabe Freda used to toy with on Sunday afternoons. listening to the whisky gurgle out of the bottle mouth and spread across the floor. a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. Why throw out either theory? One didn't necessarily negate the other. more restless anger. had fallen with society. It was still there. Usually he felt a twinge when he realized that. clogging their pores. on its hardwood top a heavy band saw; a wood lathe. Yet he.Later.One of the bodies was sprawled on the sidewalk; the other one was half concealed in the shrubbery. and left again into his bedroom.Then the sudden bolt of numbing pain in his jaw. They'd forced celibacy on him; he'd have to live with it.

""How about coffee?"She shook her head.Later. Tomorrow. He must have been in the crypt for hours. Another unanswerable question. Carefully. The women. into the shoulder." she said. She was annoyed by sickness.Neville stood there motionless. he thought. eyes glittering at the house. roughly. anyway?Wearily he stood up and stumbled into the bathroom. But he didn't see how.

All right. shut up. I panic. With a gagging intake of breath he jerked them apart and pressed them against his legs. and pressed down hard on the accelerator. the seventy. But how could he believe it with all the bumpings and the scrapings.. You got me there.Nothing happened. Some of them.a time. No breeze to stir the vivid blossoms around the houses. "I keep meaning to. He wondered what day they had stopped.His unkempt hair rustled on the pillow as he looked toward the clock.

lying across from her mother. turned left into the small hallway. He opened the door and watched her crossing the living room very slowly. for want of better knowledge. jagged pieces of the silver-backed glass would start to fall off. He wondered what day they had stopped. he thought. The heart had not been touched. Books on hygiene.A shudder. and against the curbs cars were parked. Things should be done the right way. gold and shiny in the morning sun. brainless way to die!Now he saw them start running straight toward the station wagon. There was no point in using any of the gasoline stored in the garage until he had to. the men in canvas and masks drawing him back.