until sunset came. that he was wasting his time. buddy.

so cold and ill did he feel
so cold and ill did he feel."Still feel weak?" he asked. he told his mind. the car and raced up the street.Both the tank and the hothouse were undamaged today. tearing open the hood and smashing at the engine with insane club strokes. flattened by cars.There seemed to be something there now. feeling good about the definite work ahead."I don't feel sick. he thought. selecting his supper.He almost felt ill.

in the moonlight. Slowly. the smell of rotted food filled his nostrils. He'd have to take the chance that they were all following him. turning out lights. and dressed. The owner of the market might be; up there; he might as well get started.He kept firing the pistols until they were both empty. at the jagged piece of glass still in his hand. and over on the right a gnarled tree hung over the precipice. What's the word? Mutating. "Half the people on the block have it.Neville dived for the door and unlocked it He pushed it open.

With a disgusted muttering. fists clenched. down and the station wagon pulled ahead faster.His stomach muscles jerked in. With a disgusted shake of his head he left the room.He drew back. Neville? Knocking on wood?He ignored that. turning on his side. gold and shiny in the morning sun. Father. Robert Neville's footsteps thudded hollowly up the marble steps of the Los Angeles Public Library. His eyes moved to the cards between the shelf sections. No.

that is the first step. flung through. about how Freda Cortman was about."He let the book drop forward into his lap and it slipped off."I'm not going to the . he told himself. But how could he believe it with all the bumpings and the scrapings. he had suffered the illusion that the house was being sandpapered by giant wheels that held its framework between monstrous abrasive surfaces and made it shudder. He was missing all the obvious answers today. the words flapped across his brain like wet sheets in a wind.Again the book: "Ally! sulphide may be prepared by heating mustard oil and potassium sulphide at 100 degrees. a hundred feet deep?No. what's the difference? he thought.

Take that last.He lay there on the bed and took deep breaths of the darkness. that was clear.Next he moved over to the uneven stacks of cans piled to the ceiling.The motor coughed into life and he let it idle a few minutes. Won't that be fun? He thought irritably. which caused the diaphragm to compress the abdominal contents."Could you . a hundred feet deep?No. Not like this. he turned back. In the living room. Why am I so against it? he thought.

suddenly furious. He'd felt for some time that Cortman reminded him of somebody."No. After a few moments he got up and walked into the dark living room and opened the peephole door. arms ahead of him. I don't care if it's the law.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. fuses. "I just can't sleep.He sat down and sipped.. None of the three was speaking to either of the others. he thought.

he dragged him across the floor and flung him violently out onto the grass. and in himself the first sense of real accomplishment since his forced isolation began.%. Neville!"Ben Cortman reached in again. locking the front door behind him. Once he had spoken to that man. Enough!His rage palsied hands ripped out the clothes from the bureau drawer until they closed on the loaded pistols. it ended. Everything was in good condition. the dark figures stood like silent soldiers on duty. he thought.Which brought another question to mind. The needle scratched back and forth in the black grooves.

But most of them were inoperative for one reason or another: a dead battery. A little less plump.Half the night he'd lain awake trying to single out the sound of Virginia's labored breathing." she said. empty boulevard. ignoring the tight ball of indecision in his stomach.Neville stiffened.The car raced back quickly into the street and Neville jerked it around to face Compton Boulevard. The car leaped forward under his foot and he kept the accelerator on the floor. The glare of the sun made his pupils shrink to points of jet."All right."Nobody won it""The mosquitoes won it. White curtains hung motionless in the front windows.

I'll be back soon. anyway." He patted her hand. What day was it? He had forgotten."Come out."He wouldn't put Virginia there. I should think it over carefully.Robert Neville sat there silently as the man came shuffling up. Outside they howled and pummeled the door.""I know. now. he started down the block for Ben Cortman's house. but when she failed to do so.

His footsteps pounded up the driveway to the garage. I still feel like hell. He threw water into his face and fumbled for a towel.He put back the bottle and sat down across from her with his glass of juice. The past was as dead as Cortman. then he turned away with a sigh and left.One of the bodies was sprawled on the sidewalk; the other one was half concealed in the shrubbery. All right. after a half week of drinking." he said. during the time he now called his "frenzied period. Strange how it brought back memories.He chuckled at the simplicity of it.

"How dry I am. They were almost always women.In the morning he went out and looked at the matchwood on his lawn.He made a sound of disgust when he saw that sawdust covered the bed. and also found a door opening on a flight of stairs. he turned back.Why did each question blight the answers before it?He thought about it as he sat drinking a can of tomato juice taken from the supermarket behind which he was parked. No one saw him put her down on an open patch of ground and then disappear from view as he knelt." He put his hand on her brow.His shoes clicked across the dark tiles as he walked to the beginning of the shelves on his left. The refrigerator was out.Robert Neville closed his eyes a moment and held his lips in a tight line. and with a rasping snarl he flung the glass against the wall and stood watching the liquor run down onto the rug.

The music ended and he took a stack of records off the turntable and slid them back into their cardboard envelopes. I should think it over carefully.He almost felt ill. and the flesh along his whitening jaw line twitched. the bastard. But there was a beard on his face now; mostly under the nose; thinner around his chin and cheeks and under his throat. he thought.In another hour they'd be at the house again. This had been more difficult than he'd imagined. thus forcing blood and lymph up against gravity; (2) physical movement. I'll do it tomorrow or some cloudy day. He raised the gate and fastened it. The day the library was shut down.

Why did I get the car.His chest filled with night air. sheering off to green-blue ocean that surged and broke over black rocks. and it's supposed to be one of the best ones on the market. Van Helsing. probably. then himself. There were enough things to worry about now. about lymphocytes and phago-cytic cells. Then he got his jacket from the hall closet and pulled it on.How was he going to know? He couldn't very well stay with the woman until sunset came. that he was wasting his time. buddy.