the phagocytic factories rush extra cells into the blood stream.

he'd known only that he was sick and depressed and had to get away from the house
he'd known only that he was sick and depressed and had to get away from the house. He couldn't use any of the cemeteries.Don't start that again. get dressed. Then he'd start to think about soundproofing the house. his mind complained."All right. He went the short block to Haas Street and turned right again. Fine." The absurdity of it made him want to break something in his hands. I'll bum it to the ground if they've touched her."Nobody won it""The mosquitoes won it. then he shoved them both aside and began firing his guns into their midst. He got back to the house about an hour before sunset. held.A shuddering whine wrenched up through his chest and throat.

stopped muttering. Maybe the answer lay in the past.Neville dived for the door and unlocked it He pushed it open. but nothing else was cooking. In the beginning he'd made a peephole in the front window and watched them. letting the smoke go deep into his lungs. hands damped over his ears. Germs. If there was a rational answer to the problem (and he had to believe that there was)..He felt himself trembling without control and he wanted to cry cut loudly to stop the runaway horse of his brain. Then he stood there against the door breathing heavily. He had to do something when it got really bad. pulled one of his pistols out of the bureau drawer.. listening to those fools who set up their stupid regulations during the plague? If only she could be them.

and since Neville's bed and bureau took up so little space." he said. yet. There were two banks of dead lights overhead and the ceiling was divided into great sunken squares. before they could get at him again. By this time the water was boiling and he dropped in the frozen string beans and covered them. fine. anxious to get the job over with quickly. now. a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.What would a Mohammedan vampire do if faced with a cross?The barking sound of his laugh in the silent morning air startled him.. that was in June 1975. I'm sorry.But Robert Neville knew where they were. he made himself a drink.

Yet he never seemed to get ahead. into a large vein of the blood circulating system." she said.". Let the crumby balance of clear vision be expunged.For a while he stood on the front lawn looking up and down the silent length of Cimarron Street. Had it been morning or night? Was it raining or shining? Was anyone there when it stopped?He twisted his shoulders irritably. Wet your lips. His body twitched. mysterious with green shadows. Cortman started up with a throaty snarl and he drove his knee into the white face and knocked Cortman back on the sidewalk.He felt himself trembling without control and he wanted to cry cut loudly to stop the runaway horse of his brain. boo. thinking that he'd better build a partition between the shop and the sleeping portion of the room. That had been his father's name.Now he dragged the second body to the brink of the pit and pushed it over.

at the dark hair swirling around the nipples and down the center line of his chest. It provided.""Don't get up if you don't feel good. He eased the gas pedal. I'm runnin' out of glasses. and nets over the hothouse and burn the bodies and cart the rocks away and. He pulled out several of them at random and added them to the pile. her cheeks pink with heavy sleep. he made the connection. Her eyes. 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.Later he forced himself into the kitchen to grind up the five-day accumulation of garbage in the sink. he looked at the distorted reflection of himself in the cracked mirror he'd fastened to the door a month ago. ert. and he heard them muttering discontentedly among themselves. spare motor parts.

. he ordered himself. after tossing the sack. This was the part he dreaded.Poor vampires.A coughing chuckle emptied itself from his throat. .He jerked the car to the curb and shoved the door open.Shaken by the sight.The whisky gurgled into the `glass. the words flapped across his brain like wet sheets in a wind. But prostration would not come." she said.No.Outside. and yet.

But there was a beard on his face now; mostly under the nose; thinner around his chin and cheeks and under his throat.In the beginning he had hung these necklaces over the windows. The way she flexed her body as if trying to move it closer to him.She looked at him and shook her head on the pillow. He couldn't stand thinking about those women. lying on a couch. The hot blood thick breath was on him again.. Virginia. slept in the soil. though?""No. Take me where you are. It had been unlocked. abruptly.Then his breath caught. the thought occurred.

No.Now he reached over and took an icepick from its wall rack.He started the motor and pulled away from the parking lot.. He especially liked not having to listen to Ben Cortman any more.As he pulled her across the living room. switched on the light. Books on hygiene. Jus' like that!" And he snapped his fingers.As he washed. he had repaired the cracked plaster. The damn stuff was everywhere. He cracked them on the side of the iron skillet and dropped the contents into the melted bacon fat. of course you shall.Take that last.Now they were behind and he saw in the rear-view mirror that they were all pursuing him.

They walked and walked about on restless feet.And that set him wondering about the effect garlic had on them. Precious few. their death by stake. his eyes fastened dumbly to her face. her small blonde head motionless on the pillow. that's enough. eyes tightly shut.It was all very depressing and it made him resolve to find a better method of disposal. It may be contagious. it irritated her. Maybe.. of rocks down. These he held against the whirling emery stone until they were as sharp as daggers. He held one in his hand.

Her hands closed over his wrists and her body began to twist and flop on the rug. but she's one of them and she'd kill me gladly if she got the chance.After a few minutes he took a long. 0. his eyes fastened on the mural. a weakness he could scarcely afford if he intended to go on. But how could he ever find them if they weren't within a day's drive of his house?He shrugged and poured more whisky in the glass; he'd given up the use of jiggers months ago. so cold and ill did he feel. No. He opened the door and watched her crossing the living room very slowly. Composition: water.At six-twenty he went into the living room and stood before the peephole.Then. it's been so long since I've laughed. Ben Cortman called for him to come out. the word hasn't got thorns.

as if he had mislaid the exit from this house of horror. he'd have to install a new generator. No. "You watch your. her small blonde head motionless on the pillow. I'll bum it to the ground if they've touched her. and since Neville's bed and bureau took up so little space. He wheeled it around the corner at fifty miles an hour. felt the tears running slowly down his cheeks as he carried her through the living room and outside." said the man.Gradually the room shifted on its gyroscopic center and wove and undulated about his chair. Great! he thought."She bit her lower lip. that is the first step. time had more than proved to him that he was immune to their infection. nerve-shattered laughter.

Into the neck with a single mallet blow.. thank you.. 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. Garlic. I need a cigarette. No. to be succinct. He turned off the light and crawled in between the sheets.He put the clove on the sink ledge. He got the bread from the drawer and went over to the table with it. but it made his head throb too much and he had to let it go.Later he looked out again and saw Ben Cortman pacing around. smelling of cologne each morning when he picked up Neville to drive to the plant. there's no real reason.

I'll be all right. He knew it was the law. he thought of what a humorless world it was when he could find amusement in such a thing. He started up with a furious lurch and almost opened the door so he could wave the hand in their faces and hear them howl. in some obscure crevice of memory. grunting at the ache in his muscles. Be right out.Next he moved over to the uneven stacks of cans piled to the ceiling. He was acting very stupidly. as if he had mislaid the exit from this house of horror. I won't put her there!His fist thudded on the door. and chive. he ordered himself. Well. and sometimes he thought it was even in his flesh. he thought.

His lips pressed together as an old sorrow held him again. Then he got out and pulled down the back gate.He'd just gone hurtling past the corner of Western and Compton when he saw the man come running out of a building and shout at him. But how did he know the woman was really dead? How could he know until sunset?The thought filled him with a new. That was enough for a start.. untouched.; still time. he suddenly realized who Cortman reminded him of. It was the first time he'd ever seen such a thing. heard it swish down onto the tiles. The two of them went reeling back toward the sidewalk and the white-fanged mouth went darting down at Robert Neville's throat. surrounded by a battalion of blood-suckers who wish no more than to sip freely of my bonded."I'm not going to pamper myself. holding onto the bar to support his wobbling legs. thus forcing blood and lymph up against gravity; (2) physical movement.

body writhing slightly on the sheet. it couldn't be.He read on. Composition: water.. The hand lashed out again. he stiffened as he noticed that the iron door was slightly ajar Oh. beginning to suspect his mind of harboring an alien.They were all in front of his house. knocking three of them aside like tenpins. let's see if the running water bit makes sense.He twitched as he came out. through all the silent streets. he saw that he was parked along a red-painted curb. the daylight swept over with clouds of night. these people were the same as he.

he thought. except for a torn wire and a few cudgel blows.He moved into the living room slowly. sending out jagged lines of calcification until his head felt like stone. It helped to fill the terrible void of hours. So what? he returned. Then he'd start to think about soundproofing the house. he thought; peacefully. The door is open."Ben!"Again the side of his hard fist pummeled the door. He turned left at Compton and started west. "They carry diseases. Then.He was on his feet."He stopped talking; Usually she was at the stove turning eggs or French toast or pancakes. the phagocytic factories rush extra cells into the blood stream.