Book 1 · Chapter 10

Leatherhead is about twelve miles from Maybury Hill. The smell of hay was in the air through the lush meadows beyond Pyrford, and the hedges on either side were bursting with dog-roses.

The heavy firing that had started while we were driving down Maybury Hill stopped just as suddenly, leaving the evening really peaceful and quiet.

We got to Leatherhead without any trouble around nine o’clock, and the horse got an hour’s rest while I grabbed some dinner with my cousins and told them to take care of my wife. My wife was really quiet the whole drive, and seemed worried about something bad happening.

I tried to reassure her, pointing out that the Martians were stuck in the pit because they were so heavy, and at most could only crawl a little way out; but she just answered with short words.

If it hadn’t been for my promise to the innkeeper, she probably would have begged me to stay in Leatherhead that night. I wish I had! I remember her face was really pale when we said goodbye. For my part, I’d been super excited all day.

Something like the war fever that sometimes sweeps through a community had gotten into my blood, and I wasn’t exactly upset that I had to go back to Maybury that night. I was even a little afraid that the last burst of gunfire meant our invaders from Mars were being wiped out.

I guess the best way to describe how I felt is that I wanted to be there to see it all end. It was almost eleven when I started heading back. The night was surprisingly dark; walking out of the lighted doorway of my cousins’ house, it seemed totally black, and it was as hot and sticky as the day.

Overhead, the clouds were racing across the sky, even though there wasn’t a breeze stirring the bushes around us. My cousins’ guy lit both lamps. Luckily, I knew the road really well. My wife stood in the light of the doorway and watched me until I climbed into the dog cart.

Then she suddenly turned and went inside, leaving my cousins wishing me good luck. I felt a little down at first because of my wife’s worries, but I quickly started thinking about the Martians. At that point, I had absolutely no idea what had been happening during the evening’s fighting.

I didn't even know what had caused the conflict. As I came through Ockham (that’s the way I returned, not through Send and Old Woking), I saw a blood-red glow along the western horizon, which as I got closer, slowly crept up into the sky.

The racing clouds of the coming thunderstorm mixed with huge masses of black and red smoke. Ripley Street was deserted, and except for a few lighted windows, the village showed no sign of life.

But I almost had an accident at the corner of the road to Pyrford, where a group of people stood with their backs to me. They didn’t say anything to me as I passed.

I don’t know what they knew about what was happening beyond the hill, or if the silent houses I passed on my way were sleeping soundly, deserted and empty, or anxious and watching against the terror of the night.

From Ripley until I came through Pyrford, I was in the valley of the Wey, and the red glow was hidden from me. As I went up the little hill beyond Pyrford Church, the glow came into view again, and the trees around me shivered with the first sign of the storm that was coming.

Then I heard midnight pealing out from Pyrford Church behind me, and then I saw the silhouette of Maybury Hill, with its tree tops and roofs black and sharp against the red. Even as I looked at this, a bright green glow lit the road around me and showed the distant woods towards Addlestone.

I felt a tug on the reins. I saw that the racing clouds had been pierced as if by a thread of green fire, suddenly lighting up the confusion and falling into the field to my left. It was the third falling star!

The storm hit fast, and the first lightning bolt flashed, so violet it hurt to look at. Then thunder exploded overhead like a giant firework. The horse panicked, pulling the bit between its teeth and bolting. The road sloped down towards Maybury Hill, and we clattered down it.

Once the lightning started, it just kept coming, flash after flash - the fastest I’d ever seen. The thunderclaps crashed one after another, with a weird crackling sound, like some massive electric machine, not the usual rumbles.

The light was blinding, and a light rain stung my face as I drove down the slope. At first, I just focused on the road ahead. Then, suddenly, I saw something moving down the opposite side of Maybury Hill. I thought it was a wet roof at first, but flash after flash revealed it was rolling really fast.

It was hard to see - a moment of darkness, then a flash of light, and there were the red buildings of the Orphanage near the top of the hill, the green tops of the pine trees, and this weird thing, clear and bright. And this thing I saw! How do I even describe it?

A huge, monstrous tripod, taller than most houses, smashing through the young pine trees as it moved; a walking engine of gleaming metal, striding across the heath. Articulated steel cables dangled from it, and the clatter of its progress mixed with the thunder.

A flash, and there it was, leaning over on two legs, then vanishing to reappear almost instantly, a hundred yards closer. Imagine a milking stool tilted and bowled along the ground - that's what those quick flashes made me think. But instead of a stool, imagine a giant machine on a tripod stand.

Then, suddenly, the trees in the pine wood ahead of me were ripped apart, like brittle reeds being pushed aside; they snapped and were driven headlong, and another huge tripod appeared, rushing towards me, it seemed. I was galloping hard to meet it!

Seeing the second monster completely freaked me out. Without a second thought, I yanked the horse's head hard to the right, and in a moment, the dog cart tipped over onto the horse; the shafts shattered, and I was thrown sideways, landing hard in a shallow puddle.

I scrambled out almost immediately, crouching with my feet still in the water under a patch of gorse bushes.

The horse lay motionless (his neck was broken, poor thing!) and by the lightning flashes, I saw the black outline of the overturned dog cart and the silhouette of a wheel still spinning slowly. In another moment, the giant machine went striding past me, heading uphill towards Pyrford.

Up close, the thing was incredibly weird, because it wasn’t just a mindless machine on a journey. It was a machine, with a metallic clang and long, flexible, glittering tentacles (one of which gripped a young pine tree) swinging and rattling around its strange body.

It chose its path as it went, and the brass hood on top moved back and forth, like a head looking around. Behind the main body was a huge mass of white metal like a giant fisherman’s basket, and puffs of green smoke shot out from the joints of its limbs as the monster swept past me.

Then, it was gone. That's what I saw, all blurry because of the lightning - blinding flashes and deep black shadows.

As it passed, it let out an insane, ear-splitting howl that drowned out the thunder - "Aloo! Aloo!" - and within a minute, it was with its partner, about half a mile away, bending over something in the field.

I’m pretty sure that thing in the field was the third of the ten cylinders they’re shooting at us from Mars. For a while, I just lay there in the rain and darkness, watching these huge metal beings move around in the distance over the hedges.

A light, icy shower started, and as it came and went, their shapes got blurry and then snapped into focus again. Sometimes the lightning would disappear, and the night would swallow them up. I was soaked with hail from above and puddle water below.

It took me a long time to shake off my shock enough to drag myself up the bank to a drier spot and even think about how much danger I was in. Not far from me was a tiny, rundown shack with one room, surrounded by a small potato patch.

Finally, I managed to get to my feet, crouching and using whatever cover I could find, and I ran for it. I pounded on the door, but I couldn’t get anyone to hear me (if there was anyone even inside), and after a while, I gave up.

Using a ditch for most of the way, I managed to crawl, unseen by those crazy machines, into the pine woods towards Maybury. Under the cover of the trees, I pushed on, now wet and shivering, towards my own house. I walked among the trees trying to find the path.

It was really dark in the woods, because the lightning was getting less frequent, and the hail, which was coming down in sheets, fell in columns through the gaps in the thick leaves.

If I had really understood what I’d seen, I would have headed around through Byfleet to Street Cobham and then gone back to rejoin my wife at Leatherhead. But that night, everything felt so bizarre, and I was physically wrecked.

I was bruised, exhausted, soaked to the bone, and deafened and blinded by the storm. I just had a vague idea of getting to my own house, and that was all the motivation I needed.

I stumbled through the trees, fell into a ditch and banged my knees on a plank, and finally splashed out into the lane that ran down from the College Arms. I say splashed because the storm water was sweeping sand down the hill in a muddy rush.

Then, in the darkness, someone bumped into me and sent me staggering backward. He yelled in terror, jumped to the side, and ran off before I could even gather my wits to speak to him. The storm was hitting especially hard right there, so I had to fight just to make my way up the hill.

I stayed close to the fence on the left and worked my way along its posts. Near the top, I tripped over something soft, and by a flash of lightning, I saw between my feet a pile of black cloth and a pair of boots. Before I could really see how the man was lying, the light disappeared.

I stood over him, waiting for the next flash. When it came, I saw that he was a solid-built man, dressed well but not fancy; his head was bent under his body, and he lay crumpled up close to the fence, as if he’d been thrown violently against it.

Fighting down the feeling of disgust that comes with never having touched a dead body, I bent down and turned him over to feel for his pulse. He was completely dead. It looked like his neck had been broken. The lightning flashed for a third time, and his face flashed into view. I jumped to my feet.

It was the landlord of the Spotted Dog, the guy whose ride I’d taken.

I carefully stepped over him and kept moving up the hill. I walked past the police station and the College Arms, heading towards my place. Nothing was on fire on the hillside, but from the common, there was still a red glow and a huge cloud of red smoke rolling up against the icy rain.

As far as I could see in the flashes of light, the houses around me seemed okay. By the College Arms, there was a dark pile in the road. Down the road towards Maybury Bridge, I could hear people talking and the sound of footsteps, but I didn't have the guts to yell or head over there.

I used my key to get inside, slammed the door, locked it, and bolted it. I stumbled to the bottom of the stairs and just sat down. My brain was full of those creepy, robot-like things and the dead person smashed against the fence.

I huddled at the foot of the stairs with my back against the wall, shaking like crazy.