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18 - Under Foot - The War of the Worlds - H G Wells · Science Fiction Books

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  Speaker 1: Book two, The Earth under the Martians, Chapter one Underfoot.
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  Speaker 1: In the first book, I have wondered so much from
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  Speaker 1: my own adventures to tell of the experiences of my brother,
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  Speaker 1: that all through the last two chapters I and the
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  Speaker 1: Curate have been lurking in the empty house at Haliford,
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  Speaker 1: whither we fled to escape the black smoke. There, I
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  Speaker 1: will resume. We stopped there all Sunday night and all
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  Speaker 1: the next day, the day of the panic, in a
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  Speaker 1: little island of daylight, cut off by the black smoke
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  Speaker 1: from the rest of the world, we could do nothing
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  Speaker 1: but wait in aching inactivity. During those two weary days,
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  Speaker 1: my mind was occupied by anxiety for my wife. I
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  Speaker 1: figured her at Leatherhead, terrified in danger, mourning me already
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  Speaker 1: as a dead man. I paced the rooms and cried
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  Speaker 1: aloud when I thought of how I was cut off
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  Speaker 1: from her, of all that might happen to her in
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  Speaker 1: my absence. My cousin, I knew, was brave enough for
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  Speaker 1: any emergency, but he was not the sort of man
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  Speaker 1: to realize danger quickly, to rise promptly. What was needed
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  Speaker 1: now was not bravery, but circumspection. My only consolation was
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  Speaker 1: to believe that the Martians were moving londonward and away
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  Speaker 1: from her. Such vague anxieties keep the mind sensitive and painful.
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  Speaker 1: I grew very weary and irritable with the curate's perpetual ejaculations.
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  Speaker 1: I tired of the sight of his selfish despair. After
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  Speaker 1: some ineffectual remonstrance, I kept away from him, staying in
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  Speaker 1: a room, evidently a children's schoolroom, containing globes, forms and
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  Speaker 1: copy books. When he followed me thither, I went to
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  Speaker 1: a box room at the top of the house, and,
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  Speaker 1: in order to be alone with my aching miseries, locked
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  Speaker 1: myself in. We were hopelessly hemmed in by the black
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  Speaker 1: smoke all that day and the morning of the next.
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  Speaker 1: There were signs of people in the next house on
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  Speaker 1: Sunday evening, a face at a window and moving lights,
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  Speaker 1: and later the slamming of a door, But I do
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  Speaker 1: not know who these people were, nor what became of them.
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  Speaker 1: We saw nothing of them next day. The black smoke
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  Speaker 1: drifted slowly Riverwood all through Monday morning, creeping nearer and
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  Speaker 1: nearer to us, driving at last along the roadway outside
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  Speaker 1: the house that hid us. A Martian came across the
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  Speaker 1: fields about mid day, laying the stuff with a jet
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  Speaker 1: of superheated steam that hissed against the walls, smashed all
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  Speaker 1: the windows it touched, and scalded the Curate's hands as
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  Speaker 1: he fled out of the front room. When at last
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  Speaker 1: we crept across the sodden rooms and looked out again,
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  Speaker 1: the country northward was as though a black snow storm
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  Speaker 1: had passed over it. Looking towards the river, we were
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  Speaker 1: astonished to see an unaccountable redness mingling with the black
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  Speaker 1: of the scorched meadows. For a time we did not
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  Speaker 1: see how this change affected our position, save that we
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  Speaker 1: were relieved of our fear of the black smoke. But
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  Speaker 1: later I perceived that we were no longer hemmed in,
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  Speaker 1: that now we might get away. So soon as I
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  Speaker 1: realized that the way of escape was open, my dream
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  Speaker 1: of action returned. But the Curate was lethargic, unreasonable. We
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  Speaker 1: are safe here, he repeated, Safe here. I resolved to
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  Speaker 1: leave him, would that I had wiser now for the
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  Speaker 1: artilleryman's teaching. I sought out food and drink. I had
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  Speaker 1: found oil and rags for my burns, and I also
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  Speaker 1: took a hat and a flannel shirt that I found
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  Speaker 1: in one of the bedrooms. When it was clear to
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  Speaker 1: him that I meant to go alone, had reconciled myself
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  Speaker 1: to going alone, he suddenly roused himself to come, And
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  Speaker 1: all being quired throughout the afternoon, we started about five o'clock,
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  Speaker 1: as I should judge, along the blackened road to Sunbury.
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  Speaker 1: In Sunbury, and at intervals along the road were dead
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  Speaker 1: bodies lying in contorted attitudes, horses as well as men,
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  Speaker 1: overturned carts and luggage, all covered thickly with black dust.
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  Speaker 1: That pall of cindery powder made me think of what
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  Speaker 1: I had read of the destruction of POMPEII. We got
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  Speaker 1: to Hampton Court without misadventure, our eyes full of strange
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  Speaker 1: and unfamiliar appearances. And at Hampton Court our eyes were
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  Speaker 1: relieved to find a patch of green that had escaped
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  Speaker 1: the suffocating drift. We went through Bushy Park with its
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  Speaker 1: deer going to and fro under the chestnuts, and some
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  Speaker 1: men and women hurrying in the distance towards Hampton, and
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  Speaker 1: so we came to Twickenham. These were the first people
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  Speaker 1: we saw away acrossross the road. The woods beyond Ham
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  Speaker 1: and Petersham were still afire. Twickenham was uninjured by either heat,
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  Speaker 1: ray or black smoke. And there were more people about here,
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  Speaker 1: though none could give us news. For the most part,
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  Speaker 1: they were like ourselves, taking advantage of a lull to
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  Speaker 1: shift their quarters. I have an impression that many of
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  Speaker 1: the houses here were still occupied by scared inhabitants, too
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  Speaker 1: frightened even for flight. Here, too, the evidence of a
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  Speaker 1: hasty route was abundant along the road. I remember most
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  Speaker 1: vividly three smashed bicycles in a heap, pounded into the
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  Speaker 1: road by the wheels of subsequent carts. We crossed Richmond
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  Speaker 1: Bridge about half past eight. We hurried across the exposed bridge,
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  Speaker 1: of course, but I noticed floating down the stream a
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  Speaker 1: number of red masses, some many feet across. I did
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  Speaker 1: not know what these were. There was no time for scrutiny,
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  Speaker 1: and I put a more horrible entel repretation on them
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  Speaker 1: than they deserved. Here again, on the Surrey side were
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  Speaker 1: black dust that had once been smoke, and dead bodies
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  Speaker 1: a heap near the approach to the station. But we
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  Speaker 1: had no glimpse of the Martians until we were some
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  Speaker 1: way towards Barnes. We saw in the blackened distance a
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  Speaker 1: group of three people running down a side street towards
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  Speaker 1: the river, but otherwise it seemed deserted. Up the hill,
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  Speaker 1: Richmond Town was burning briskly. Outside the town of Richmond,
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  Speaker 1: there was no trace of the black smoke. Then suddenly,
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  Speaker 1: as we approached Kew, came a number of people running,
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  Speaker 1: and the upper works of a Martian fighting machine loomed
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  Speaker 1: in sight over the housetops, not a hundred yards away
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  Speaker 1: from us. We stood aghast at our danger, and had
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  Speaker 1: the Martian looked down, we must immediately have perished. We
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  Speaker 1: were so terrified that we dared not go on, but
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  Speaker 1: turned aside and hid in a shed in a garden.
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  Speaker 1: There the Curate crouched, weeping silently and refusing to stir again.
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  Speaker 1: But my fixed idea of reaching Leatherhead would not let
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  Speaker 1: me rest, and in the twilight I ventured out again.
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  Speaker 1: I went through a shrubbery and along a passage beside
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  Speaker 1: a big house standing in its own grounds, and so
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  Speaker 1: emerged upon the road towards Kewe. The Curate I left
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  Speaker 1: in the shed, but he came hurrying after me. That
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  Speaker 1: second start was the most foolhardy thing I ever did,
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  Speaker 1: for it was manifest the Martians were about us. No
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  Speaker 1: sooner had the curate overtaken me than we saw either
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  Speaker 1: the fighting machine we had seen before, or another far
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  Speaker 1: away across the meadows in the direction of kew Lodge.
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  Speaker 1: Four or five little black figures hurried before it across
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  Speaker 1: the green gray of the field, and in a moment
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  Speaker 1: it was evident this martian pursued them in three strides.
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  Speaker 1: He was among them, and they ran radiating from his
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  Speaker 1: in all directions. He used no heat ray to destroy them,
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  Speaker 1: but picked them up one by one. Apparently he tossed
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  Speaker 1: them into the great metallic carrier, which projected behind him,
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  Speaker 1: much as a workman's basket hangs over his shoulder. It
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  Speaker 1: was the first time I realized that the Martians might
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  Speaker 1: have any other purpose than destruction. With defeated humanity, we
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  Speaker 1: stood for a moment, petrified, then turned and fled through
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  Speaker 1: a gate behind us into a walled garden, fell into
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  Speaker 1: rather than found a fortunate ditch, and lay there scarce,
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  Speaker 1: daring to whisper to each other until the stars were out.
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  Speaker 1: I suppose it was nearly eleven o'clock before we gathered
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  Speaker 1: courage to start again, no longer venturing into the road,
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  Speaker 1: but sneaking along hedgerows and through plantations, and watching keenly
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  Speaker 1: through the darkness, he on the right and I on
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  Speaker 1: the left for the Martians, who seemed to be all
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  Speaker 1: about us. In one place, we blundered upon a scorched
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  Speaker 1: and blackened area, now cooling and ashen, and a number
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  Speaker 1: of scattered dead bodies of men, burned horribly about the
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  Speaker 1: heads and trunks, but with their legs and boots mostly intact,
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  Speaker 1: and of dead horses fifty feet perhaps behind a line
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  Speaker 1: of four ripped guns and smashed gun carriages. Sheen, it seemed,
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  Speaker 1: had escaped destruction, but the place was silent and deserted.
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  Speaker 1: Here we happened on no dead, though the night was
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  Speaker 1: too dark for us to see into the side roads
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  Speaker 1: of the place. In Sheen, my companion suddenly complained of
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  Speaker 1: faintness and thirst, and we decided to try one of
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  Speaker 1: the houses. The first house we entered, after a little
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  Speaker 1: difficulty with the window, was a small semi detached villa,
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  Speaker 1: and I found nothing eatable left in the place, but
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  Speaker 1: some moldy cheese. There was, however, water to drink, and
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  Speaker 1: I took a hatchet, which promised to be useful in
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  Speaker 1: uns next house. Breaking We then crossed to a place
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  Speaker 1: where the road turns towards Mortlake. Here there stood a
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  Speaker 1: white house within a walled garden, And in the pantry
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  Speaker 1: of this domicile we found a store of food, two
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  Speaker 1: loaves of bread in a pan, an uncooked steak, and
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  Speaker 1: the half of a ham. I give this catalog so precisely, because,
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  Speaker 1: as it happened, we were destined to subsist upon this
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  Speaker 1: store for the next fortnight. Bottled beer stood under a shelf,
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  Speaker 1: and there were two bags of harricot beans and some
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  Speaker 1: limp lettuces. This pantry opened into a kind of wash
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  Speaker 1: up kitchen, and in this was firewood. There was also
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  Speaker 1: a cupboard, in which we found nearly a dozen of
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  Speaker 1: burgundy tinned soups and salmon, and two tins of biscuits.
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  Speaker 1: We sat in the adjacent kitchen in the dark, for
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  Speaker 1: we dared not strike a light, and ate bread and ham,
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  Speaker 1: and drank beer out of the same bottle. The curate,
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  Speaker 1: who was still timorous and restless, was now oddly enough
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  Speaker 1: for pushing on, and I was urging him to keep
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  Speaker 1: up his strength by eating. When the thing happened that
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  Speaker 1: was to imprison us. It can't be midnight yet, I said,
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  Speaker 1: And then came a blinding glare of vivid green light.
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  Speaker 1: Everything in the kitchen leaped out, clearly visible in green
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  Speaker 1: and black, and vanished again. And then followed such a
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  Speaker 1: concussion as I have never heard before or since. So
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  Speaker 1: close on the heels of this as to seem instantaneous,
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  Speaker 1: came a thud behind me, a clash of glass, a
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  Speaker 1: crash and rattle of falling masonry all about us, and
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  Speaker 1: the plaster of the ceiling came down upon us, smashing
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  Speaker 1: into a multitude of fragments upon our heads. I was
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  Speaker 1: knocked headlong across the floor against the oven handle and stunned.
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  Speaker 1: I was insensible for a long time, the Curate told me,
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  Speaker 1: And when I came to, we were in darkness again,
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  Speaker 1: and he, with a face wet as I found afterwards,
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  Speaker 1: with blood from a cut forehead, was dabbing water over me.
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  Speaker 1: For some time I could not recollect what had happened.
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  Speaker 1: Then things came to me slowly. A bruise on my
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  Speaker 1: temple asserted itself. Are you better? Asked the curate in
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  Speaker 1: a whisper. At last I answered him. I sat up.
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  Speaker 1: Don't move, he said, the floor is covered with smashed
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  Speaker 1: crockery from the dresser. You can't possibly move without making
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  Speaker 1: a noise, and I fancy they are outside. We both
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  Speaker 1: sat quite silent, so that we could scarcely hear each
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  Speaker 1: other breathing. Everything seemed deadly still, but once something near us,
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  Speaker 1: some plaster or broken brickwork, slid down with a rumbling sound. Outside,
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  Speaker 1: and very near was an intermittent metallic rattle that said
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  Speaker 1: the curate when presently had happened again, Yes, I said,
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  Speaker 1: but what is it? A martian, said the curate. I
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  Speaker 1: listened again. It was not like the heat ray, I said,
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  Speaker 1: And for a time I was inclined to think one
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  Speaker 1: of the great fighting machines had stumbled against the house,
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  Speaker 1: as I had seen one stumble against the tower of
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  Speaker 1: Shepperton Church. Our situation was so strange and incomprehensible that
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  Speaker 1: for three or four hours, until the dawn came in,
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  Speaker 1: we scarcely moved. And then the light filtered in, not
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  Speaker 1: through the window, which remained black, but through a triangular
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  Speaker 1: aperture between a beam and a heap of broken bricks
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  Speaker 1: in the wall behind us. The interior of the kitchen
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  Speaker 1: we now saw greyly for the first time. The window
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  Speaker 1: had been burst in by a mass of garden mold,
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  Speaker 1: which flowed over the table upon which we had been sitting,
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  Speaker 1: and lay about our feet outside. The soil was banked
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  Speaker 1: high against the house. At the top of the window
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  Speaker 1: frame we could see an uprooted drain pipe. The floor
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  Speaker 1: was littered with smashed hardware. The end of the kitchen
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  Speaker 1: towards the house was broken into, and since the daylight
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  Speaker 1: shone in there, it was evident the greater part of
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  Speaker 1: the house had collapsed. Contrasting vividly with this ruin was
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  Speaker 1: the neat dresser, stained in the fashion pale green and
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  Speaker 1: with a number of copper and tin vessels below it,
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  Speaker 1: the wallpaper imitating blue and white tiles, and a couple
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  Speaker 1: of colored supplements fluttering from the walls above the kitchen range.
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  Speaker 1: As the dawn grew clearer, we saw through the gap
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  Speaker 1: in the wall the body of a martian standing sentinel,
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  Speaker 1: I suppose, over the still glowing cylinder. At the sight
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  Speaker 1: of that, we crawled as circumspectedly as possible out of
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  Speaker 1: the twilight of the kitchen into the darkness of the Scullerybruptly,
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  Speaker 1: the right interpretation dawned upon my mind. The fifth cylinder.
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  Speaker 1: I whispered, the fifth shot from Mars had struck this
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  Speaker 1: house and buried us under the ruins. For a time,
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  Speaker 1: the curate was silent, and then he whispered, God have
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  Speaker 1: mercy upon us. I heard him presently whimpering to himself.
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  Speaker 1: Save for that sound, we lay quite still in the scullery. I,
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  Speaker 1: for my part, scarce dared breathe, and sat with my
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  Speaker 1: eyes fixed on the faint light of the kitchen door.
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  Speaker 1: I could just see the Curate's face a dim oval shape,
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  Speaker 1: and his collar and cuffs. Outside there began a metallic hammering,
• 15:44
  Speaker 1: then a violent hooting, and then again, after a quiet interval,
• 15:48
  Speaker 1: a hissing, like the hissing of an engine. These noises,
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  Speaker 1: for the most part problematical, continued intermittently and seemed, if anything,
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  Speaker 1: to increase in number. Time wore on presently, a measured
• 16:03
  Speaker 1: thudding and a vibration that made everything about us quiver,
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  Speaker 1: and the vessels in the pantry. Ring and shift began
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  Speaker 1: and continued once the light was eclipsed and the ghostly
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  Speaker 1: kitchen doorway became absolutely dark. For many hours, we must
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  Speaker 1: have crouched there, silent and shivering, until our tired attention
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  Speaker 1: failed at last, I found myself awake and very hungry.
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  Speaker 1: I am inclined to believe we must have spent the
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  Speaker 1: greater portion of a day before that awakening. My hunger
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  Speaker 1: was at a stride, so insistent that it moved me
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  Speaker 1: to action. I told the Curate I was going to
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  Speaker 1: seek food, and felt my way towards the pantry. He
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  Speaker 1: made me no answer, But so soon as I began eating,
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  Speaker 1: the faint noise I made stirred him up, and I
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  Speaker 1: heard him crawling after me. End of Section eighteen.