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a large property. He could bury her somewhere on it. Anywhere. He could relax on his porch come warm summer evenings, and stare at the spot in satisfaction. And chances were the body might never be found--if there was anybody alive out there to find it. He chuckled to himself, mentally planning every minute detail.
    And even if the body was found, once he explained his motives, once he revealed what had happened, as long as the jury had even one man seated on it, he would never be convicted. Never.
    Russell dragged his sore, aching body up from the bed, staring at the strange, bedraggled being in the mirror. His nose was swollen, the skin on his face chapped, his pupils peculiarly large and dark.
    It was, of course just another foolish fantasy. As if he could ever harm a hair on her hard little head.
    Cloaking himself in the blanket again, he slowly made his way down the stairs. He could hear her fumbling around in the kitchen.

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    He was still horny as hell, but he was even more hungry. He had not eaten all day. And there was still that little matter to attend to in the basement, the big secret he still kept from her.
    He might be crazy, but he was not stupid. The only important truth had been revealed. He’d seen the signs, read all the signals.
    She still wanted him as much as he wanted her. And as long as they were stuck here together, he still had a chance.
    And the next time that chance presented itself, he intended to take full and complete advantage of it.

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    C H A P T E R 9

    Boy, she was good ‘n mad at him.

    He could tell by the way the pans were being banged around.

    Russell eased quietly down the cold, dark stairs to the basement. If there’d ever been any doubt in his mind before, there was very little now. Iris Foley was the most important thing in the world to him. And she was going to be his.

    However, for the moment, even she would have to wait. There was something here he urgently needed to take care of.

    And then he’d prepare her for The Time.

    As the faint beam of the flashlight swept the room, he listened carefully. For the response from It. For any sound that might indicate she was coming or spying on him. He’d even removed his shoes, wary of making too much noise during his descent.

    Everything seemed to be in order. And there was the fallen mop, and the box shoved away from the wall, just as she’d said. He THE LAST MAN ON EARTH
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    moved stealthily past his work tools toward the smaller room in the back, where the appliances loomed out of the darkness, gleaming like towering teeth in the shadows.

    There was a strong smell of urine here. But it had been two days. That was to be expected.

    Russell placed the flashlight on its end in the middle of the floor and crouched beside it, peering into the corners. Waiting for the latest barrage of thunder to complete its roll, he pursed his lips and emitted a soft, nearly silent whistle.

    The scattered sound of small claws sounded in the corner. And then there was silence.

    “It’s alright,” he whispered encouragingly. “It’s safe. Come on out now. Come on.”

    He opened his arms in welcome to the small, hesitant figure which virtually slithered across the floor, pausing every few inches as if afraid. As it finally reached him, it cowered at his knees, shivering in anticipation.

    “Nothing to be afraid of,” Russ soothed, comforting the quivering mass until its breathing slowed and it seemed to relax. “It’s almost over now. I know, I know,” he murmured. “Hasn’t been easy THE LAST MAN ON EARTH
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    for you, has it? I haven’t fulfilled my obligations to you very well, have I? But that’s about to change.”

    He paused to listen again. The thunder, although still intimidatingly loud, had a more muffled edge to it, and the explosions were coming farther apart each time. “The storm is moving away.
    We won’t