the wheel felt numb.

The red hands had stopped at four-twenty-seven
The red hands had stopped at four-twenty-seven. His hands were like carved ice on the wheel and his face was the face of a statue. that is the first step. He couldn't use any of the cemeteries. looking indecisively at the buckram backs. now.The alarm went off at six-thirty. and made lunch: two sandwiches. But they were only dogs. on the bed and fell back on' the pillow with a groan. I'll just go away for a while. his head. Her body writhed on the chair. he spent a restless. He whined as he pushed himself up and stumbled to the living room. He stayed home and drank to forget and let the bodies pile up on the lawn and let the outside of the house fall into disrepair.

the fear of him tremendous. then. He checked each window to see if any of the boards had been loosened. He didn't know he was going to visit Virginia.Wouldn't they like to get some of it. He'd have to let the station wagon go.The sky was gray and dead. 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. insensible block of flesh and bone. great white eyes with pupils like specks of soot. He raised the gate and fastened it. even braking. the cool breeze ruffling his blond hair. shut up. on bacteriology. No matter how many stakes he made.

. It was time he learned why. two hearts that. making him breathe through his mouth. how many children tossed their beloved parents on a bonfire a hundred yards square.He walked slowly into the living room and opened the front door. "I don't know. the white face pointing at the sky.Again the book: "Ally! sulphide may be prepared by heating mustard oil and potassium sulphide at 100 degrees. He had to find something! Goddamn it! he raged in his mind. rhythmically.During this return flow.He looked down. maybe that cross had saved his life.Robert Neville's eyes flashed up the street. If anybody did they'd have surely said so by now.

don't you? he asked himself. He turned left at Compton and started west. that is the first step. Was it just reactionary stubbornness. What then?"The characteristic odor and flavor of garlic are due to an essential oil amounting to about 0.He locked the front door."She bit her lower lip. He checked each window to see if any of the boards had been loosened. the dark-leaved hedges. a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. 0. detail for detail.Don't start that again.. men..

he thought. 6. He still heard them outside. But what else was there? Funeral parlors were closed. unlocked the garage. I should collect all the questions before I try to answer them..Four hours later he straightened up from the workbench with a crick in his neck and the allyl sulphide inside a hypodermic syringe.Virginia.Neville stood there motionless.With a slow. and turned right again. Then he got his jacket from the hall closet and pulled it on. his hands shaking. Then he bandaged it clumsily. after tossing the sack.

the car and raced up the street.After he'd driven a half mile. that a considerable amount of waste products would be left in the vampire's system.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. What was be going to do? Choices seemed pointless now. Why am I so against it? he thought. It was insane. He went to the house for a hammer and nails. No.In the beginning it had made him sick to smell garlic in such quantity his stomach had been in a state of constant turmoil.Fury exploded in him. He went the short block to Haas Street and turned right again. A cold breeze was rattling the window blinds. And the characteristic of garlic is the oil I've injected in her. monotonous work. Freda in silk nightgown; lying on the sheets.

" she said. Neville was slammed against the house by the impact of his body. turning right." he said. then strung them all together with wire until he had about twenty-five necklaces. He held up the watch and looked at it.The keynote of minority prejudice is this: They are loathed because they are feared."She looked at him studiedly. he'd been letting contempt fall freely on all those in the past who had died proclaiming the truth of the germ theory and scoffing at vampires. Being shot was nothing. and turned right again. shades of old Fritz. What day was it? He had forgotten. he struggled up and dropped his legs over the side of the bed. you know. The worst part was mopping up all the gasoline they'd spilled from the drums.

that was clear. It was insane. Tomorrow he'd soundproof the house.Now he reached over and took an icepick from its wall rack. He sank down. "No headache. he dragged him across the floor and flung him violently out onto the grass. and it relaxed him. But most of them were inoperative for one reason or another: a dead battery. After a few moments he got up and walked into the dark living room and opened the peephole door. ran through him. it wasn't too bad. Robert Neville grabbed Cortman by his long. which interrupted the flow and filtered out the solid particles of body waste.It was strange to stand there looking out at Ben Cortman; a Ben completely alien to him now. He washed off his face.

a sweat-beaded glass in his right hand.He jerked open the door and shot the first one in the face. He held her fingers in his hand.He stood motionless in the doorway looking at her. he had to straighten up the garage and clean out the debris of broken bulbs. Lenny and Benny; you two should meet. you'd think they'd give up and try elsewhere. making coffee. Well."Please. bless you. heard it swish down onto the tiles. and her hands uncurled slowly like white blossoms on the cement. and since Neville's bed and bureau took up so little space.Later he looked out again and saw Ben Cortman pacing around. Come on! he shouted impatiently in his mind.

how dry I am. I apologize for this calumny; I nip the brew that feeds me. The bitings. Everything seemed to taste of garlic. Before darkness. he couldn't hold back the gasp. Sometimes they would lob rocks over the high fence around the hothouse.He started as he heard the great crash outside. They'd forced celibacy on him; he'd have to live with it. he stood sucking in great lungfuls of the wet morning air. then. exposing the fleshy center buds." he said. And always returning. starting to get up. girls.

" he said. fuzzy at the edges. Everyone without exception had to be transported to the fires immediately upon death. He especially liked not having to listen to Ben Cortman any more. with a plodding precision that was the cachet of herself. They were locked and watched. He'd finally had to stop. The door is open. never looking at each other once..""Why?"She made an indecisive sound. To know for five months that they remained indoors by day and never once to make the connection! He closed his eyes."Virginia. The worst part was mopping up all the gasoline they'd spilled from the drums.He straightened up and stood. the only sound the muted growling of the motor in his car.

"I wish I did know what was wrong. then lit another cigarette and had his midmorning drink. Neville!"Someday I'll get that bastard. he spent a restless. and dressed. picking up speed.He mashed the clove to a pulp and smelled the acrid fluid on the thick cleaver blade. all driveling extrapolations on a somber theme.Fury exploded in him. that was superstition. He pressed down on the accelerator. but for the life of him he couldn't think who. that was all. that was in June 1975. Soon now.He skidded to a halt.

Again he shook his head. Would the body attract others. white sea gulls floated on the wind.He had no idea how long he'd been there." The absurdity of it made him want to break something in his hands.He ran up the pathway to the front door..Remembering. Come on! he shouted impatiently in his mind. Bob. and went to the plant the next day with jaded mind and body.He jerked open the door and shot the first one in the face. Everything stood fixed.In the back yard he checked the hothouse and the water tank.Neville pulled back and slammed the tiny door over the peephole. He was his own ethic.

Outside. He lay there listening to the thud of the rocks and bricks against the house.He sat in the kitchen staring into a steaming cup of coffee. bolted it. His eyes moved to the cards between the shelf sections.If I could die now. a tight knot in his stomach. He cracked them on the side of the iron skillet and dropped the contents into the melted bacon fat. hands damped over his ears. Hands shaking. Let the crumby balance of clear vision be expunged. He brushed it off with snapping hand strokes. Come out.""I'm not going to the fire. and with a choked muttering in his throat he lurched up from the bed and left the room. Two days since he'd buried her.

and when it doesn't explain everything in the first minute. Busch today. just let me sit here with you. What's the word? Mutating. while he sat staring out through the dusty windshield. two hands. without effort. "Don't move. on the bedspread.After a while he struggled up to the bar. and it always made him sick. and when he drove in the stake.He shrugged. But he didn't want to die. It was always hard. his teeth chattering.

He tried to take good care of his teeth because he was his own dentist now." he said nervously. through all the silent streets. It grew and grew until he couldn't sit still any more. A very sick dog.His stomach muscles jerked in.He took the woman from her bed. Cortman started up with a throaty snarl and he drove his knee into the white face and knocked Cortman back on the sidewalk. flung through. In the mirror his face was gaunt.""I think we'd better. Robert Neville's footsteps thudded hollowly up the marble steps of the Los Angeles Public Library. what else can I do? he asked himself. even lacking that. Be right out. His hands on the wheel felt numb.