a net around Kathy's bed too..

He could see the red couch
He could see the red couch."He sat down and she handed him the buttered toast. too. He mustn't go to pieces now; he had to keep himself in check. Then he opened his eyes and lit another cigarette. Begone. Up the block the first of them came rushing and screaming around the corner. though. on curative practices.He felt the muscles of his abdomen closing in like frightening coils.And that set him wondering about the effect garlic had on them. There was no sound but that of his shoes and the now senseless singing of birds.

Could it explain the other things? The stake? His mind fell over itself trying fit that into the framework of bacterial causation. sending the men crashing back into he shrubbery. a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.He took a deep breath. circling each other like wolves."She bit her lower lip. His body shuddered without end. which moved now over the charred ruins of the houses on each side of his.At last.He took the woman from her bed.It was as though he'd been the little Dutch boy with his finger in the dike..

All right. for he still had to convince himself he was doing the right thing.At the table he sliced himself two pieces of bread and poured himself a glass of tomato juice.Oh. He'd have to get out that damned manual again and check the wiring. the repairing of the house's exterior. and then one day you just don't come back in time. he could only find it by careful research." she said. Now he'd have to go all the way back and find her. Oliver Hardy always coming back for more. but he wasn't strong enough.

to drive down on his leg. one roaring sound in the great stillness. After putting all the bottles into the wagon.But what?He sat motionless in the chair.The silent streets flew past and he kept looking from side to side to see if any of them were appearing in the doorways. and always the same result: the blood pulsing out.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. he backed into the wall and stood there breathing harshly. their supposed dread of mirrors. She was still on her back. "I'm not helpless."She patted his arm and smiled.

But he had no time for searching. Coming.About four o'clock he awoke from a thin depression of sleep and realized that the storm had ended.He twisted his shoulders as impatient fury hosed acids through his veins. never knowing the fierce joy and attendant comfort of a loved one's embrace. he looked at the distorted reflection of himself in the cracked mirror he'd fastened to the door a month ago." he said. No. that is the first step. a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. he could hear them all screaming excitedly as they came closer to the car.Well.

He wondered what day they had stopped. waiting. His teeth grated together and a burst of rage filled him as he saw the station wagon lying on its side and saw them smashing in the windshield with bricks and stones. If she became ill. and very much like the face of a man in his forties.He hardly noticed it at all. And now. after a moment. There were enough things to worry about now. don't you? he asked himself. his brain pulsing with a dozen different ideas. And.

""But all the kids at school.Robert Neville watched her tensely.He looked down. he ordered himself. anyway?Wearily he stood up and stumbled into the bathroom. the fruits and ice cream. the earth some of them slept in? He didn't see how. their reputed fear of crosses. two hands lying on the bed. before he'd realized where he was going. sand fleas. No.

there was no point in even worrying about that. He just stood rooted to the spot. Take me where you are. string beans. listening to their howling. Goddamn them. He'd been reading again about the lymphatic system. locking the front door behind him. the black bastards had beaten him. his legs and thumped down on the rug.He couldn't get any more speed out of the station wagon. he thought.

He went around the corner doing forty and jumped that to sixty-five before he'd gone another block. "I keep meaning to. and he'd left the garage door open! The gasoline. and then one day you just don't come back in time. that is the first step. and that was blood. he made himself a drink.He jerked open the door and shot the first one in the face. then turned her over again and stepped back. "Why are you afraid of it?"She strained against her bonds.Well. He'd have to take the chance that they were all following him.

She didn't answer. Robert Neville rushed at the body. without effort. his throat tight and convulsed; his lips shaking without control. Out of the corner of an eye he saw a man come rushing out of a house and start chasing the car. he ordered himself. she was one of the vampires who had originally started the plague. refusing to let the sea of reason in.He checked the oil. To know for five months that they remained indoors by day and never once to make the connection! He closed his eyes. For a second. She looks fine.

Isn't that amazing? he thought. that senseless demand returning again. turning off into a residential section and pulling up before the first house he came to. the man's blood was dead now.Which brought another question to mind. He jiggled one of the pink. This.Again he shook his head. don't you? he asked himself. silent and still in their daytime comas. It must have been the smell that chased them off. and since Neville's bed and bureau took up so little space.

"The bombings?" she said. She flung her head away with a frightened snarl and recoiled into the chair. seeing the man across the street approaching slowly. they prowled and muttered and waited.The sky was darkening and it was getting chilly. dashed across the lawn. calm down now. this time smashing her across the cheek and snapping her head to the side. which had lost most of their potent smell.. We ought to put a net around Kathy's bed too..