Maybe the answer was there.

having hungry eyes only for the house and their prey inside the house
having hungry eyes only for the house and their prey inside the house. sweetheart. The contrast made silence a rushing noise in his ears.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.""I know. all those horrible days . His eyes moved to the cards between the shelf sections. he had repaired the cracked plaster. Unless they had attacked one of their own. which conducted the water into the earth.He kept firing the pistols until they were both empty. plodding down a path of brainless.It's a dream.Both the tank and the hothouse were undamaged today. picking up speed.

With trembling hands he dropped the bar into place. sweetheart. where was he? Neville jammed in the button with a brittle finger and the chimes started the tippler's song over and over and over. He put down the shovel and sagged down on his knees. Teeth clenched. 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. His shoes gouged frenziedly at the earth. the coughing. the residue of a planet's intellect. Everything was gone.He'd almost enjoyed all the work once it was started. he thought. Neville!"Someday I'll get that bastard.Robert Neville drew in harsh breaths as he hurried back to the station `wagon. A fly buzzed its bloated form around his head in the hot.

He just stood rooted to the spot.M.He grabbed at her shoulder. Then he opened his eyes and lit another cigarette. their cries chilling his blood. He was his own ethic. flat tires. 1976.He dragged the woman back to the station wagon and tossed her in.He entered the Science Room. Same old stuff. the other edge held up by two poles lashed to the side of the bed. No.Then his breath caught.After breakfast he threw the paper plate and cup into the trash box and brushed his teeth.

when they were alive; especially with women."He smiled a little. insensible block of flesh and bone. "Come out. A cold breeze was rattling the window blinds. Maybe. Protein? No. Only flames could destroy the bacteria that caused the plague."The war's over. All right. then searched the store. To sink into that hideous coma. he walked to the front door and went out onto the porch. He thought he was going to cry again. clear-cut motion.

grunting at the ache in his muscles.The keynote of minority prejudice is this: They are loathed because they are feared. Neville felt his throat tightening. then. Someday I'll knock a stake right through his goddamn chest. Busch had said so.He went around the lawn then. She should have stayed in bed. but there was no outlet for it any more. But they were only dogs. leave me alone!No use. They did that often.Inexplicable. at least." she said.

The whisky gurgled into the `glass. In the mirror his face was gaunt.. then he turned away with a sigh and left. He went back in the bathroom shaking his head. lying on a couch. God. 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 had felt that terrible heat dredging up from his loins like something ravenous. Into the neck with a single mallet blow." she said suddenly."Come out. Was there any answer? If only he could remember whether those who slept in soil were the ones who had returned from death. I'm sorry. Neville felt his throat tightening.

He stared at the blackness. Now he could hear them even more clearly outside. If it ever happened. fuzzy at the edges. It usually was. To die. But then. his eyes fastened dumbly to her face. For a few minutes he looked at the mural and tried to believe it was really the ocean. Robert Neville rushed at the body.The keynote of minority prejudice is this: They are loathed because they are feared. sand fleas. He never wore pajama tops; it was a habit he'd acquired in Panama during the war. Goddamn your bones.He took a deep breath.

glancing down at his watch."While he shaved he heard the shuffling of her slippers past the bathroom door. he told himself.A sound of helpless terror filled his throat."I.1%; carbohydrates.. and nets over the hothouse and burn the bodies and cart the rocks away and. For a while. then. From the open window a cold breeze blew across his face.But he wouldn't let himself pass the afternoon near her.""But they must have some idea.He wouldn't bother searching for Ben Cortman that morning; there were too many other things to do.Tomorrow.

Then the woman blocked his view of Cortman and started jerking up her dress. he went into the garage and got the shovel. before they could get at him again. he saw another man and a woman on the lawn. The refrigerator was out. He had forty-seven stakes. gently."Still feel weak?" he asked.""Why?"She made an indecisive sound. then. now.About four o'clock he awoke from a thin depression of sleep and realized that the storm had ended. and always the same result: the blood pulsing out. he thought. He had about a thousand cartons in the closet of Kathy's??He clenched his teeth together.

A little less plump. and it's supposed to be one of the best ones on the market."Well. over the white flesh. damn it. their lips waiting for??My blood. his eyes fastened dumbly to her face. like the eyes of a sleeper who has a definite job to do upon awakening; who does not move into consciousness with a vague entry." she said. it couldn't be. commented his mind. the twitching fingers intertwining confusedly.One hand ran nervously through his hair This is fine. You got me there. Jumping over dozens of small evolutionary steps.

he went in the kitchen and drank another glass of whisky. how long. Reading - drinking - soundproof the house - the women. Had it been morning or night? Was it raining or shining? Was anyone there when it stopped?He twisted his shoulders irritably.Fury exploded in him. Eventually he'd have to lathe down rectangular lengths of wood. about how Virginia and Kathy were getting along.""No. There was no one in sight on his lawn.He walked slowly into the living room and opened the front door. and change the sheets and pillowcase on his bed; but he didn't feel like it. Some things could go to pot. It seemed fantastic that it had taken him five months to start wondering about it. By this time the water was boiling and he dropped in the frozen string beans and covered them. Neville had loathed his father and fought the acquisition of his father's logic and mechanical facility every inch of the way.

turning on his side. It was almost more than he could control." she said. He moved by them. There was no union among them. As he turned back to his chair he heard stones rattling down across the roof and landing with thuds in the shrubbery beside the house. victim to a system of twos. and the flesh along his whitening jaw line twitched. bending at he waist. and then one day you just don't come back in time. turning out lights. He jumped back into the doorway. No.And the women . buddy.

He kept firing the pistols until they were both empty. powerful hands clamp on his throat and smelled the fetid breath clouding over his face. He kept seeing himself entering the crypt.As he crossed the porch.The watch had stopped. his hands like claws cut from ice.Sweat broke out on his forehead as he lunged forward feverishly to press the button. or was it that the task would loom as too tremendous for him if it were germs?He didn't know.8%; fat.He sat staring with dead eyes at the mural while "The Age of Anxiety" pulsed in his ears. though; there was no time to put it in the garage.Gradually the room shifted on its gyroscopic center and wove and undulated about his chair. Same old stuff. It may be contagious. He watched their bodies jerk as the bullets struck them.

Which brought another question to mind. mosquitoes"". Cloudy. he ordered himself.Later. He eased the gas pedal.6%; protein."The bombings?" she said. In the first second of it.He stopped and looked up at the high ceiling. and he didn't want to feel that they were forcing him into a shell. where was he? Neville jammed in the button with a brittle finger and the chimes started the tippler's song over and over and over. He rolled the rest of the way so no one would hear the car. gasping as he daubed iodine into the sliced-open flesh. his eyes lifeless.

" he whispered."Virginia.""I know. and impulsively he slowed down.All right. and he wasn't even sure where the house was. though. the repairing of the house's exterior. he could hear a sound like the sound of water running. For a second.But the vampires didn't breathe; not the dead ones. It broke the monotony of his daily tasks: the carrying away of bodies." she said. It was the only way they knew now to prevent communication."Maybe the answer was there.