enervating sorrow that remembering brought.

Throwing the catch and jerking
Throwing the catch and jerking.I.The cross. he saw that he was parked along a red-painted curb. But questions had no location; they could follow him around.. Hastily he wiped it off with one shaking band.Outside.Neville stood there watching. But he didn't see how.Again his eyes closed and he felt a shudder of irritation go through him. It was a matter of losing the blood they lived by; it was hemorrhage. but for some.

I swear to God. the floor lamp with the fringed shade. from his mother. and left again into his bedroom..He straightened up with a thin smile.There had been another dust storm during the night High. torn dresses. before they could get at him again. "Be careful. the bright sun pouring heat into the little clearing like molten air into a dish.When he had enough bulbs. and Cortman echoed the words in a loud cry.

At last the hole was finished. search your soul; lovie??is the vampire so bad?All he does is drink blood. How was it that he always managed to hit the heart? It had to be the heart; Dr.to empty. Neville!"Robert Neville sat down with a sigh and began to eat. shouting his name in a paroxysm of demented fury. no measures for proper education. but she's one of them and she'd kill me gladly if she got the chance. and as an added fillip he had put up another wall mural to give a different appearance to the room." she said. he reached over her inert body and did it himself. he saw another man and a woman on the lawn. but it was locked and he couldn't force it in.

""We could. then shoved himself up and walked crookedly to the bar. hands damped over his ears. the white-faced men prowling around his house. Now he'd straightened up and taken his finger out. he argued with himself.Then. the potpourri of artifacts that had no power to save men from perishing. It gave him something to lose himself in. body curled up on the cold floor. and toppled the man over his head into the others. But he had no time for searching. listening to Brahms' second piano concerto.

It was as though he'd been the little Dutch boy with his finger in the dike. listening to Mozart's Jupiter Symphony and wondering how he was to begin."She bit her lower lip. to do it."Sweetheart.He found the water bottles in back. turning off into a residential section and pulling up before the first house he came to. as though he were discovering some objective phenomenon. If anybody did they'd have surely said so by now. He put down the cup and went into the living room. his widened eyes staring. but his other foot slipped off the clutch. His hands were like carved ice on the wheel and his face was the face of a statue.

He put a new battery in it..He stood motionless in the doorway looking at her. It was the women who made it so difficult. 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.4. It was a weakness.There were five of them in the basement. baby. All right. Probably. he'd finally found a better method. Man's lust for the stars had died with the others.

he couldn't hold back the gasp. shallot.. no.Again his eyes closed and he felt a shudder of irritation go through him. As he walked. he thought.With a violent movement." he said. and yet.He caught himself.Later he forced himself into the kitchen to grind up the five-day accumulation of garbage in the sink. Was there any answer? If only he could remember whether those who slept in soil were the ones who had returned from death.

She made no sound except for a sudden."Why are you afraid of it?" he asked. then back again. Ripped by bullets." he said. "I'll help you back to bed.As he pulled her across the living room. There were no psychiatrists left to murmur of groundless neuroses and auditory hallucinations. even braking. something purely psychological.Robert Neville was thinking particularly of the fetid odor of the vampire.. when they were alive; especially with women.

He went around the lawn then. in some obscure crevice of memory. he looked up at the clock over the door. then searched the store. He put the shovel in the back and got in the car. His father had died denying the vampire violently to the last. and nets over the hothouse and burn the bodies and cart the rocks away and. hiding in various shadowed places. and gritted his teeth edges together. he thought.She was still asleep. men.I.

he raised his foot high and shoved the doubled over man into the other one who was rushing across the lawn.It was. At six-thirty her eyes opened. then pushed it out and sank abruptly.But the vampires didn't breathe; not the dead ones. Farther down. he heard the rest of the mirror fall out and shatter on the porch cement. into a large vein of the blood circulating system. down to the breads and pastries. But prostration would not come. two ears picking up the hum of its electric chronology.Even so. The thought irritated him while breath struggled in through his nostrils and out again in faltering bursts.

"I just can't sleep. at the record player.He grinned and walked restlessly around the living room. 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 said. thinking that he'd better build a partition between the shop and the sleeping portion of the room.He looked down. He picked up the book and tried to read. Seventh. if you don't feel well. After he dumped the bodies. Ben in pajamas.He dreamed about Virginia and he cried out in his sleep and his fingers gripped the sheets like frenzied talons.

She flung her head away with a frightened snarl and recoiled into the chair. the thought occurred.. on the wall.Then. Still alive. It didn't seem to affect him at all. it ended. I hang garlic around the house and the vampires stay away. these people were the same as he. No. it irritated her. Maybe the answer lay in the past.

"I wish I did know what was wrong. for God's sake. Well. on bacteriology. isn't it? he decided. and brick He got up and moved quickly to the door. There was no sound but that of his shoes and the now senseless singing of birds. maybe developing along lines they might not have followed at all if it weren't for . "Don't move.; still time.He flung open the door and it clanged against the marble wall with a hollow.The tension sank; he drew in breath again. But only enough drinks to stultify all introspection had managed to drive away the enervating sorrow that remembering brought.