chapter-4

4. In the last chapter, I stopped telling you about my own adventures to talk about the

experiences of my brother. During that time, the curator and I had been hiding in the empty

house in Halliford. We stayed there on Sunday night, and all the next day, the day of the

panic. We could do nothing but wait impatiently during those two days. I was very worried

about my wife. I thought she was in Leatherhead, terrified, in danger, and thinking I was dead.

I knew my cousin was brave enough, but he was not the kind of man to really use danger

and act quickly. I was comforted by the fact that the Martians were moving towards London

and away from her. I grew very tired and could not stand the curators constant talking, so

I kept away from him and stayed in the other rooms of the house. We were trapped by the

black smoke all that time. There were signs of people in the next house on Sunday evening,

a face at a window, moving lights and a closing door. But I do not know who these people were

or what happened to them. The black smoke moved slowly to the river on Monday morning,

getting nearer and nearer, coming at last along the road outside the house that hid us. About

midday a Martian came across the fields, pouring hot steam all over the walls and breaking

windows. The curate burnt his hand as he ran out of the front room. When it was all over

and we looked out again, we saw the country covered with black dust. I realized that we

were no longer trapped and could now leave the house. Immediately my dream of action returned,

but the curate was unwilling to go. We are safe here, he kept saying. I decided to leave

him.

Thanks to the soldier, I knew I had to look for food and drink. I also found a hat and

a shirt. When the curate realized that I was going by myself, he suddenly decided to come.

We set out about five o 'clock along the blackened road to Sunbury. On our way we saw dead bodies

of horses and people, overturned carts and luggage, all covered thickly with black dust.

We passed Sunbury and continued to walk. In Hampton Court we were pleased to see some

green areas because the heat ray or the black smoke had not been there. In Boucher Park we

saw some deer running under the trees and a few people walking towards Hampton Court.

Then we came to Twickenham, which was also not affected. We talked to some people, but

they could not give us any news. It was clear that people had left the town rapidly. I remember

three bicycles in the road, crushed under the wheels of carts. We crossed Richmond Bridge

at about half past eight. On the Surrey side there was black dust and dead bodies, but we

did not see any of the Martians. Suddenly we saw some people running. Then the top of

a Martian fighting machine appeared over the house tops, a hundred meters away from us.

We stood shocked. If the Martian had looked down, we would have been killed. We were so

terrified that we hid in a shed in a garden. There the curate sat and cried silently and

refused to move again. But I was determined to reach Leatherhead, and in the evening I

went out again. I left the curate in the shed, but he came hurrying after me. That decision

to leave the shed was the most foolish thing I ever did. It was clear the Martians were

around us. Immediately after we left we saw a Martian far away across the fields. Four

or five little black figures were running in front of it. The Martian was chasing them.

In three steps it caught up with them. It did not use the heat ray to destroy them, but

picked them up one by one and threw them into the big metal box attached to its back.

This was the first time I realized, that the Martians might have another purpose besides

destroying humanity. We stood terrified, then turned and ran into a walled garden and hid

under some bushes. It was nearly eleven o 'clock before we could go out again. We did not go

out on the road, but moved through fields and gardens, carefully watching for the Martians.

When we came to Sheen, we saw that it had not been destroyed, but it was silent and empty.

The curate said he did not feel well, so we decided to go inside one of the houses. We

entered a house, but there was no food there. I found some water and a hatchet, which I used

to break into the next house. Then we found a white house in a walled garden. We entered

and found some food in the kitchen, two loaves of bread and uncooked steak and some cooked

meat. Under a shelf there were two bags of beans and some lettuce. We also found some

tinned soup and fish, two tins of biscuits and some tea in a cupboard. I give the list

in such detail because this was all we would live on in the next two weeks. We sat in the

kitchen in the dark and had some bread and meat. It was around midnight when there was a sudden

blinding flash of green light, which was followed by the loudest bang I have ever heard. Immediately

afterwards the glasses in the windows exploded, the walls broke, and the ceiling came crashing

down on us. I was knocked across the floor, hitting my head on the oven. I was unconscious

for a long time the curate told me, and when I woke up we were in darkness again, and he

was wiping my face. For some time I could not remember what had happened. Are you better?

Whispered the curate. I sat up. Don't move, he said. The floor is covered with broken plates.

You can't possibly move without making a noise, and I think they are outside. We sat

so silently that we could not even hear each other breathing. Outside and very near was

a metallic sound. That, said the curate. Yes, I said. But what is it? A Martian. I listened

again. It was not like the heat ray, I said. Our situation was so strange and incredible

that for three or four hours until sunrise we did not move. And then the light came in, not

through the window, but through a small hole in the wall behind us. We saw the kitchen for

the first time. The window was filled with soil from the garden, which poured over the

table that we had been sitting at. The floor was covered with broken things. Most of the

house had collapsed. Through the hole in the wall we saw the body of a Martian standing

over a cylinder. When we saw that, we moved very carefully out of the kitchen into the

darkness of the back kitchen. Suddenly I realized what had happened. The fifth cylinder,

I whispered. It has hit this house and buried us under the ruins. For a time the curate was

silent, and then he whispered, God help us. We lay there in the back kitchen for a long

time, not moving, scared to even breathe. From outside came the sound of a metallic hammering,

and later the hissing of an engine. After many hours I realized that I was very hungry,

so I decided to move. I told the curate I was going to look for food and move towards

the kitchen. He did not answer, but as soon as I began eating he came crawling after me.

After eating we went back to the back kitchen and fell asleep again. When I woke up I was

alone. The hammering sound continued. I crawled to the door of the kitchen. It was still daylight,

and I saw the curate lying down, looking out of the hole in the wall. I moved towards him,

stepping very carefully through the broken plates on the floor. I touched the curate's

leg, and he suddenly moved. A big piece of plaster came down outside with a loud crash.

I held his arm, and for a long time we remained still. Then I turned to look at the wall.

The falling plaster had left another hole, and I was able to see through it the remains

of the quiet road. The fifth cylinder had fallen onto the house we had first visited.

The building had vanished. The cylinder lay deep in a hole, much larger than the pit invoking.

The soil all around it had been thrown onto the houses around it. Our house had fallen

backward. The front part had been destroyed completely. By chance the kitchen had escaped,

and was now buried under soil and ruins. We now lay on the edge of the great round pit

the Martians were making. The cylinder was already open in the center of the pit, and

on the other side of the pit, one of the great fighting machines stood tall against the evening

sky. At first I did not notice the pit and the cylinder, because an extraordinary machine

held my attention. There were some strange creatures crawling slowly across the soil near

it. The machine looked like a metallic spider with five legs and with many tentacles. With

three of these, it was lifting metal pieces out of the cylinder and placing them on the

ground behind it. It was moving so smoothly and quickly that at first I did not realize

it was a machine. People who have never seen the Martian building machines cannot imagine

how alive they looked. Then my attention shifted to the Martians who were controlling the machines.

I had seen them before, but only for a short time. Now I had time to look at them closely.

They were the strangest creatures. They had large round bodies or heads, about a meter

in diameter. Each body had a face in front of it. This face had no nose, but a pair of

very large dark colored eyes, and just beneath this a kind of beak. In the back of this head

or body, there was a flat surface which we now know is an ear. Around the mouth there were

sixteen thin tentacles arranged in two groups of eight. These worked as the hands. The Martians

seemed to be trying to raise themselves on these hands. But of course, with the increased

weight on earth, this was impossible. Inside their bodies, most of the space was filled

with the brain. There were also the big lungs and the heart. It may seem strange to a human

being, but the Martians did not have the complex digestive system that we have. They did not

have a stomach because they did not eat. Instead, they took the fresh blood of other

creatures and put it into their own veins. This idea is disgusting to us. But I think that

we should remember how disgusting our own meat -eating habits would seem to an intelligent

rabbit. Their bodies were different from us in three other ways. Firstly, they did not

sleep. And because they had no muscles, they did not need to rest. They did not get tired.

In twenty -four hours, they did twenty -four hours of work. Secondly, they had a different

reproduction system. A young Martian was born on earth during the war, and it was found

growing out of the body of its parent, just like some young plants. And finally, they did

not have to deal with microbes. Microorganisms, which cause a lot of disease and pain on earth,

have either never appeared on Mars or their science eliminated them a long time ago. Diseases,

fevers, cancers, and such illnesses are not a part of their life. It seems that the plants

on Mars are not green like those on earth. They are blood red. The Martians had brought

with them seeds, which produced red -coloured plants. The kind known as red weed was the

one that survived on earth. For a time it grew incredibly. By the third or fourth day of

our imprisonment, it had spread up the sides of the pit and reached the edges of the hole

we looked out of. Later I found it spread throughout the country, especially in places

where there was water. It is thought that the Martians communicated by sounds and movement

of their tentacles. No human being who survived saw the Martians as closely as I did. And I

have seen them working in groups of four, five, and six, doing very complex work without

sound or signal. Therefore I believed that the Martians exchanged thoughts. While I was

watching their slow movements in the sunlight, the curate pulled violently at my arm. I turned

and saw his angry face. He wanted to look through the hole, which was quite small. So

I had to stop watching the Martians for a time. When it was my turn to look through the hole,

the building machine had already put together the pieces of metal it had taken out of the

cylinder into a shape resembling its own. Down on the left there was a digging machine

sending out green smoke and working its way around the pit. This was the reason for the

machine being controlled as it worked. It did not seem to be controlled by a Martian.

The arrival of the second fighting machine made us move to the back kitchen because we

feared that the Martian could see us through the hole. Later we realized that because it

was very bright outside it would be difficult for them to see us in the blackness. But at

first we were afraid for our lives. But although it was very dangerous we could not stop ourselves

from going back and looking through the hole. I remember how we used to fight each other

to get the chance to look outside. The fact is that we were two people with completely

different characters and habits. Living together in this dangerous situation increased our differences.

I hated the curates endless complaining. He was weak and could not control himself. Sometimes

he would cry for hours like a spoiled child. He ate more than I did. And I had to explain

to him that we had to save our food because we had to stay in the house until the Martians

finished their work. As the days went by I became angrier and more worried. I tried

threatening him and when that did not work I hit him. It is hard for me to remember and

write about these things but I want to tell my story in full. The curate was watching through

the hole when the first men were brought to the pit. I was sitting nearby listening. Suddenly

he made a movement backward. I was afraid that they had seen us so I froze. Slowly

he moved near me and tried to tell me something using his arms. After a while I got up and went

to the hole. At first I could see no reason for his panic. The sun had set and the stars

were appearing. The Martian machines had green lights on them, lighting up the pit. The Martians

at the bottom were no longer visible because they were covered by a small hill of blue -green

powder. A fighting machine stood across the corner of the pit and then through the metallic

sounds of the machines I heard human voices. I watched the fighting machine closely. Now

I was certain that it contained a Martian. I could see its oily skin and the bright eyes.

And suddenly I heard a shout and saw a long tentacle reaching over the shoulder of the machine

to the metal box on its back. Then something struggling violently was lifted high against

the sky and was brought down again. I saw by the green light that it was a man. He was

fat, red -faced, middle -aged and well -dressed. Three days ago he had been an important man.

He vanished behind the small hill and for a moment there was silence. And then there was

a scream and the cheerful cry of the Martians. I put my hands over my ears and moved back

to the back kitchen. The curate looked up as I passed, cried out quite loudly and came

running after me. That night, as we hid in the back kitchen, I tried to think of a way

to escape. But I could not. But the next day I was able to think more clearly. The curate

was unable to be logical. The killing of the man had taken away his powers of thought. He

prepared myself for action. I realized that although our situation was terrible, there

was still hope. It was possible that the Martians would stay in the pit for a short time and

would leave. Or even if they stayed permanently, we could get a chance to escape. On the third

day, if I remember correctly, I saw a boy killed. That was when I actually saw the Martians

hide. After that I avoided the hole in the wall for most of the day. I felt hopeless

and lay on the floor for a long time. I had no motivation to move. At that point I believed

there was no chance for us to escape. But the next night I heard a sound like heavy guns.

It was very late in the night and the moon was shining brightly. The Martians had removed

the digging machine and only a fighting machine and a building machine were left. There was

nothing else in the pit. The night was quite still and peaceful. Then I heard a dog, and

that familiar sound made me listen. Then I heard an explosion exactly like the sound

of big guns. I counted six bangs and then six more, and that was all. On the sixth day I

looked through the hole for the last time. And soon I found myself alone. Instead of staying

with me and trying to push me away from the hole, the curate had gone back into the back

kitchen. I panicked. I went back quickly and quietly. In the darkness I saw him moving with

a lot of noise. He had taken my hatchet and was noisily trying to dig a hole in the ground.

I put my hand out and tried to take the hatchet from him. We fought for a few minutes. The hatchet

hit the floor and I stopped and got up. We looked at each other angrily. In the end I

took all the food that we had left and told him that I was going to control how much we had.

I divided the food into portions to last us ten days. I would not let him eat any more that day.

In the afternoon he tried to get the food. I had been asleep but I woke up immediately.

All day and all night we sat face to face. I was tired but determined and he cried and

complained. For two days we struggled. He begged. He cried and he even threatened

at me. I tried to persuade him by talking calmly and sometimes I was violent.

Neither forced nor keenness worked. He would not give up trying to get to the food or talking to

himself. Slowly I realized he was going insane. I remember vaguely that my mind also wandered

sometimes. I had strange and terrible dreams. I believed that the weakness and insanity of the

curate kept me strong and sane. Then he stopped whispering and began to talk aloud.

I was not able to make him speak more quietly. Then he slept for some time and when he woke up

he began again so loudly that I had to stop him.

Be still I begged. He rose to his knees. I have been still too long he said very loudly

and now I must tell the world to the people of the earth all the bad things we have done.

Shut up I said getting up please no he shouted at the top of his voice speak the word of God is

with me. In three steps he was at the door leading into the kitchen. I must tell the world

he shouted. I went after him. I was angry and afraid. Before he was halfway across the kitchen

I caught up with him and held him by the arm. I desperately wanted to stop him.

After a short struggle he fell and I saw him hit his head against the table. I stood over him

breathing heavily. He lay there still. Suddenly I heard a noise outside and the hole in the wall

became dark. I looked up and saw the lower part of a building machine coming slowly.

I stood terrified, staring. Then I saw through a sort of glass plate the large dark eyes of a

Martian and then a long metallic tentacle came slowly through the hole. I turned, jumped over

the curate and stopped at the door of the back kitchen. The tentacle was now in the room

two meters away from me moving this way and that with sudden movements. I froze for a minute.

Then I forced myself to move towards the dark part of the room. I was shaking violently.

I stood there listening. Had the Martian seen me? What was it doing now?

Something was moving very quietly in the kitchen. Then I heard a heavy body being pulled across

the floor towards the opening. I knew whose it was. I went to the door and looked into the kitchen.

In the light coming from the small hole I saw the Martian studying the curate's head.

I shut the door quietly and went back to the back kitchen. I hid behind a pile of wood.

Then I heard the faint metallic sound of the tentacle. It seemed to be moving in the kitchen

and coming towards me. I thought that it was not long enough to reach me, I prayed. Then I heard

it touching the handle of the door. It had found the door, the Martian's understood doors. It pulled

at the handle for a minute and then the door opened. In the darkness I could see the thing coming towards

me and touching and examining the wall, the wood and the ceiling. It was like a black worm

moving its blind head. It touched my boot once. I was about to scream, but I bit my hand.

For a time the tentacle was still. Then it moved and gripped something.

I thought it had me. Then it went away. It had taken a block of wood to examine.

Then I heard it coming towards me again. Slowly, slowly it approached. It tapped against the door

and closed it. I heard it go into the food cupboard. The biscuit tins shook and a bottle broke.

Then there was silence. Had it gone? At last I decided that it had. It did not come into the

back kitchen again. I lay there all day in the darkness behind the wood. On the eleventh day I was so

thirsty that I decided to come out. I went to the kitchen, but all of the food and water was gone.

Apparently the Martian had taken it all on the previous day. I felt desperation for the first time.

Without water I was feeling weaker and weaker. I sat in the darkness, feeling terrible.

On the twelfth day I was so incredibly thirsty that I went to the kitchen to get some water from the

rainwater pump by the sink. I had two glasses of dirty rainwater. I felt much better and was happy

that the Martians had not heard me. On the thirteenth day I drank some more water and thought about

plans of escape. Whenever I slept I dreamed of horrible ghosts, of the death of the curate,

of magnificent dinners. On the fourteenth day I went into the kitchen and was surprised to find

that the red weed had grown across the hole in the wall. The light that came into through the hole

was no longer gray, but red. It was early on the fifteenth day that I heard familiar sounds in the

kitchen. Going there I saw a dog's nose peering in through the hole. This greatly surprised me,

smelling me, he barked shortly. I moved forward saying, good dog, very softly, but he suddenly pulled

back his head and disappeared. I listened. The pit seemed still. I heard a bird's wings and the

cry of a crow, but that was all. For a long while I lay close to the hole, not moving the red weed

aside to look out. I heard the dog running on the sand below me, and there were more bird sounds,

but that was all. Finally I looked out. In a corner there were some birds fighting over the

skeletons of some dead bodies. Otherwise the pit was empty. I looked around, not believing my eyes.

All the machinery had gone. Slowly I pushed myself out through the red weed. I looked in every

direction, but there were no Martians. My chance of escape had come. I hesitated for some time,

and then, with desperate determination and with a heart that beat violently, I clambered to the

small hill in which I had been buried. When I had last seen this part of Sheen,

it had been a street of nice white and red houses and shady trees. Now I stood on a hill of destroyed

roads and houses which were covered with many red cactus -shaped plants. The trees near me

were dead and brown, and red plants covered the living branches. Redweed grew in the ruthless

rooms of the houses. In the great pit the crows were still fighting. Some other birds hopped around

the ruins. Far away I saw a thin cat walking on a wall, but there was no sign of human beings.

The day seemed bright, the sky a glowing blue. There was a gentle wind, and oh, the sweetness of

the air.