When we stood up we saw that the fires caused by the Martians were burning still, and to the west we saw new flames. Where were the defences of our people? The first projectile had landed nearly two days ago; surely by now the whole area would be ringed by guns?
We did not have long to wait for an answer to that, and for a few hours it afforded us a certain reassurance.
iii
The storm broke a few moments after we left our temporary refuge. Quite suddenly we were deluged with rain, of an intensity that took us completely by surprise. Within seconds we were both drenched to the skin.
I was all for taking shelter until the cloudburst had passed, but Amelia let go of my hand, and danced away from me. I saw her lit by the distant flames, the glow of red touching her. The rain was plastering her long hair about her face, and the bedraggled chemise clung wetly to her skin. She held up her palms to the downpour, and swept back the hair from her face. Her mouth was open, and I heard her laughing aloud. Then she turned about, stamping and splashing in the puddles; she took my hand, and whirled me gaily. In a moment I caught the joyous, sensuous mood from her, and together in that dark countryside we sang and laughed hysterically, totally abandoning ourselves to the thrill of the rain.
The cloudburst eased, and as the thunder and lightning intensified we sobered. I kissed Amelia fondly and briefly, and we walked on with our arms about each other.
A few minutes later we crossed a road, but there was no traffic of any kind, and shortly after this we approached more woodland. Behind us, now two miles or more away, we could see the town burning on the hill, the flames not doused by the rain.
Just as we walked beneath the first of the trees, Amelia suddenly pointed to the right. There, lined up under the cover of the woodland, was a small artillery battery, the barrels of the ordnance poking out through the camouflage of bushes and shrubs.
We had been noticed by the soldiers at the same moment—for the lightning still flickered with disconcerting brilliance—and an officer dressed in a long cape, gleaming in the rain, came over to us.
I went to him immediately. I could not see his face in the darkness, for his cap was pulled well down against the rain. Two gunners stood a short distance behind him, sparing us little attention, for they were staring back the way we had come.
“Are you in command here?” I said.
“Yes, sir. Have you come from Woking?”
“Is that the town on the hill?”
He confirmed this. “Nasty business there I believe, sir. A lot of civilian casualties.”
“Do you know what you are up against?” I said.
“I’ve heard the rumours.”
“It is no ordinary enemy,” I said, raising my voice a little. “You must destroy their pit immediately.”
“I have my orders, sir,” the officer said, and just at that moment there was a brilliant flash of lightning, repeated three times, and I saw his face for the first time. He was a man in his mid-twenties, and the clean, regular lines of his face were so unexpectedly human that for a moment I was dumbfounded. In that same illuminating flash he must have seen Amelia and me too, and noticed our untidy state. He went on: “The men have heard rumours that these are men from Mars.”
“Not men,” Amelia said, stepping forward. “Evil, destructive monsters.”
“Have you seen them, sir?” the officer said to me.
“I have more than seen them!” I cried over the rumbling of thunder. “We came with them from Mars!”
The officer turned away at once, and signed to the two gunners. They came over directly.
“These two civilians,” he said. “See them to the Chertsey Road, and report back.”
“You must listen to me!” I cried to the officer. “These monsters must be killed at the first opportunity!”
“My orders are quite explicit, sir,” the officer said, preparing to turn away. “The Cardigan is the finest regiment of horse artillery in the British Army, a fact which even you, in your present deranged state, must admit.”
I stepped forward angrily, but I was caught by one of the soldiers. I struggled, and shouted: “We are not deranged! You must shell their pit at once!”
The officer looked at me sympathetically for a moment or two—evidently assuming that I had seen my house and property destroyed, and was thus temporarily demented—then turned away and splashed across the muddy ground towards a row of tents.
The gunner holding me said: “C’mon, sir. Ain’t no place for civvies.”
I saw that the other soldier was holding Amelia by the arm, and I shouted at him to leave her go. This he did, so I took her arm myself and allowed the soldiers to lead us past the horse-lines—where the poor animals bucked and whinnied, their coats slick with rain—and into the heart of the wood. We walked for several minutes, during which we learned that the detachment had ridden down from Aldershot Barracks that afternoon, but no more information, then came to a road.
Here the soldiers pointed the way to Chertsey, then headed back to their emplacement.
I said to Amelia: “They can have no idea of what they are facing.”
She was more philosophical than I. “But they are alert to the danger, Edward. We cannot tell them what to do. The Martians will be contained on the common.”
“There are eight more projectiles to land!” I said.
“Then they will have to deal with them one by one.” She took my hand affectionately, and we started to walk up the road towards Chertsey. “I think we must be careful how we tell people of our adventures.”
I took this as a mild rebuke, so I said defensively: “The time was wrong. He thought I was mad.”
“Then we must be more calm.”
I said: “There is already word about that the projectiles are from Mars. How could they have known?”
“I do not know. But I am sure of one thing, and it is a matter of importance to us both. We know where we are, Edward. We, have landed in Surrey.”
“I wish I had thrown us into the sea.”
“If we are going to Chertsey,” Amelia said, not at all affected by my pessimism, “then we are not a dozen miles from Sir William’s house in Richmond!”
iv
As we entered Chertsey it was clear that the town had been evacuated. The first sign we saw of this was as we passed the station, and noticed that the metal gates had been drawn across the passenger entrance. Beyond them, a chalked sign declared that the train service had been suspended until further notice.
Further on into the town, walking through unlighted roads, we saw not a single lamp in any of the houses, nor anyone about the streets. We walked as far as the River Thames, but all we could see here were several boats and dinghies bobbing at their moorings.
The thunderstorm had passed, although it, continued to rain, and we were both chilled through.
“We must find somewhere to rest,” I said. “We are both done for.”
Amelia nodded wearily, and held a little tighter to my arm. I was glad for her sake that there was no one about to see us: our abrupt return to civilization served to remind me that Amelia, in her torn and wet chemise, was as good as unclothed, and I was little better dressed.
Amelia made an instant decision. “We must break into one of the houses. We cannot sleep in the open.”
“But the Martians…”
“We can leave those to the Army. My dearest, we must rest.”
There were several houses backing on to the river, but as we moved from one to the other we realized that the evacuation must have been orderly and without panic, for each was securely shuttered and locked.
At last we came to a house, in a road only a short distance from the river, where a window came free as I pushed at it. I climbed inside at once, then went through and opened the door for Amelia. She came in, shivering, and I warmed her with my own body.
“Take off your chemise,” I said “I will find you some clothes.”
I left her sitting in the scullery, for the
range had been alight during the day, and there it was still warm. I went through the rooms upstairs, but found to my dismay that all the clothes-cupboards had been emptied, even in the servants’ quarters. However, I did find several blankets and towels, and took them downstairs. Here I stripped off my combinations, and placed them with Amelia’s tattered chemise over the bar at the front of the range. While I had been upstairs I had discovered that the water in the tank was still hot, and while we huddled in our blankets beside the range I told Amelia she might have a bath.
Her response to this news was of such innocent and uninhibited delight that I did not add that there was probably only enough hot water for one.
While I had searched for clothes, Amelia had not herself been idle. She had discovered some food in the pantry, and although it was all cold it tasted wonderful. I think I shall never forget that first meal we ate after our return: salted beef, cheese, tomatoes and a lettuce taken from the garden. We were even able to drink some wine with it, for the house had a modest cellar.
We dared not light any of the lamps for the houses around us were darkened, and if any of the Martians should happen by they would immediately see us. Even so, I searched the house for some kind of newspaper or magazine, hoping to learn from it what had been known of the projectiles before the Martians broke free of the pit. However, the house had been effectively cleared of all but what we found around us, and we remained unenlightened on this score.
At last Amelia said she would take her bath, and a little later I heard the sound of the water being run. Then she returned.
She said: “We are accustomed to sharing most things, Edward, and I think you are as dirty as I.”
And so it was that while we lay together in the steaming water, genuinely relaxing for the first time since our escape, we saw the green glare of the third projectile as it fell to the ground several miles to the south.
v
So exhausted were we that in the morning we slept on far beyond any reasonable hour; it was, considering the emergency, an undesirable thing to do, but our encounter with the artillery the evening before had reassured us, and our fatigued bodies craved for rest. Indeed, when I awoke my first thoughts were not at all of the Martians. I had, the evening before, set my watch by the clock in the drawing-room, and as soon as I was awake I looked at it, and discovered that it was a quarter to eleven. Amelia was still asleep beside me, and as I gently touched her to awaken her I was smitten with the first feelings of unease about the casual way we were behaving together. It had been as a natural result of our confinement together on Mars that we had started acting as man and wife, and much as it was of great pleasure to me—and, I knew, to Amelia too—the very familiarity of our surroundings, the pleasant villa in the quiet riverside town, reminded me that we were now back in our own society. Soon we would reach a place where the awful impact of the Martians was not yet felt, and then it would be incumbent upon us to observe the social customs of our country. What had passed between us before we fell asleep became improper in our present surroundings.
Beyond the house the countryside was silent. I heard birds singing, and on the river the noise of the boats knocking together at their moorings…but there were no wheels, no footsteps, no hooves clattering on the metalled roads.
“Amelia,” I said softly. “We must be on our way if we wish to reach Richmond.”
She awoke then, and for a few seconds we embraced fondly.
She said: “Edward…what is that noise?”
We lay still, and then I too heard what had attracted her attention. It was akin to a large weight being dragged…we heard bushes and trees rustling, gravel being ground, and above all a grating of metal upon metal.
For an instant I froze in terror, then broke free of the paralysis and bounded out of bed. I rushed across the room, and threw open the curtains incautiously. As the sunlight burst in I saw that directly outside our window was one of the jointed metal legs of a battle-machine! As I stared at it in horror, there was a gusting of green smoke at the joints, and the elevated engine propelled it on beyond the house.
Amelia had seen it too, and she sat up in the bed, clutching the sheets about her body.
I hurried back to her, appalled by the amount of time we had wasted. “We must leave at once.”
“With that outside the house?” Amelia said. “Where has it gone?”
She scrambled out of the bed, and together we went quietly across the top floor of the house to a room on the other side. This was a child’s bedroom, for the floor was littered with toys. Peering through the half-drawn curtains, we looked across in the direction of the river.
There were three battle-machines in sight. Their platforms were not raised to their full height, nor were their heat-cannons visible. Instead, what seemed to be an immense metal net had been attached to the rear of each platform, and into these nets were being placed the inert bodies of human beings who had been electrocuted by the dangling, metal tentacles. In the net of the battle-machine nearest us there were already seven or eight people, lying in a tangled heap where they had been dropped.
As we stared in dismay at the sight, we saw the metal tentacles of one of the more distant machines insinuate itself into a house…and after about thirty seconds withdrew, clutching the unconscious body of a little girl.
Amelia covered her face with her hands, and turned away.
I stayed at the window for another ten minutes, immobilized by the fear of being noticed, and by the equal horror of what I was witnessing. Soon, a fourth machine appeared, and that too bore its share of human spoils. Behind me, Amelia lay on the child’s bed, sobbing quietly.
“Where is the Army?” I said softly, repeating the words again and again. It was unthinkable that these atrocities should go unchallenged. Had the battery we had seen the night before allowed the monsters to pass undamaged? Or had a brief engagement already been fought, out of which the monsters had emerged unscathed?
Fortunately for Amelia and myself, the Martians’ foraging expedition seemed to be at its end, for the battle-machines stood about, their drivers in apparent consultation. At length, one of the legged ground vehicles appeared, and in a short space of time the unconscious bodies were transferred to this.
Sensing that there was to be a new development, I asked Amelia to go downstairs and collect our clothes. This she did, returning almost at once. As soon as I had put on mine, I left Amelia on guard at the window, then went from one room to the next, looking to see if there were any more of the battle-machines in the vicinity. There was only one other in sight, and that was about a mile away, to the south-east.
I heard Amelia calling me, and I hurried back to her. She pointed wordlessly: the four battle-machines were turning away from us, striding slowly towards the west. Their platforms were still low, their heat-cannons as yet unraised.
“This is our chance,” I said. “We can take a boat and head for Richmond.”
“But is it safe?”
“No safer than at any other time. It’s a chance we must take. We will keep a constant watch, and at the first sign of the Martians we’ll take refuge by the bank.”
Amelia looked doubtful, but put forward no other objection.
There was a trace of conformity still within us, in spite of the terrible anarchy around us, and we did not leave the house until Amelia had penned a brief note to the owner, apologizing for breaking in and promising to pay in due course for the food we had consumed.
vi
The storms of the day before had passed, and the morning was sunny, hot and still. We wasted no time in getting down to the riverside, and walked out on one of the wooden jetties to where several rowing-boats were moored. I selected what seemed to me to be a solid boat, and yet one not too heavy. I helped Amelia into it, then climbed in after her and cast off at once.
There was no sign of any of the battle-machines, but even so I rowed close to the northern bank, for here weeping willows grew beside the river and their branches overhung i
n many places.
We had been rowing for no more than two minutes when to our alarm there came a burst of artillery-fire from close at hand. At once I stopped rowing, and looked all about.
“Get down, Amelia!” I shouted, for I had seen over the roofs of Chertsey the four battle-machines returning. Now the glittering Titans were at their full height, and their heat-cannons were raised. The shells of the artillery exploded in the air about them, but no damage was inflicted that I could see.
Amelia had thrown herself forward across the planks at the bottom of the boat, and she crawled towards where I was sitting. She held on to my legs, clutching me as if this alone would turn the Martians away. We watched as the battle-machines abruptly altered their course, and headed towards the artillery emplacement on the northern bank opposite Chertsey. The speed of the machines was prodigious. As they reached the river’s edge they did not hesitate, but plunged in, throwing up an immense spray. All the time their heat-beams were flashing forward, and in a moment we heard no more firing from our men.
In the same instant, Amelia pointed towards the east. Here, near where Weybridge was situated, the fifth battle-machine—the one I had seen earlier from the house—was charging at full spate towards the river. It had attracted the attentions of more artillery placed by Shepperton, and as it charged its gleaming platform was surrounded with fireballs from the exploding shells. None of these hit home, though, and we saw the Martian’s heat-cannon swinging from side to side. The beam fell across Weybridge, and instantly sections of the town burst into flame. Weybridge itself, though, was not the machine’s chosen target, for it too continued until it reached the river, and waded in at a furious speed.
Then came a moment of short-lived triumph for the Army. One of the artillery shells found its target, and with a shocking violence the platform exploded into fragments. With scarcely a pause, and as if possessed of a life of its own, the battle-machine staggered on, careening and swaying. After a few seconds it collided with the tower of a church near Shepperton, and fell back into the river. As the heat-cannon made contact with the water its furnace exploded, sending up an enormous cloud of spray and steam.