Burning death, this invisible and inevitable sword of heat, passed quickly and steadily. I felt it rushing towards me by the shimmering bushes, it was shocking and shocking, unable to stir. I heard crackling sounds in the bunker, and the harsh screams of a horse that stopped suddenly. Then, as if an invisible but intensely heated finger drew through the heather bushes between me and the Martian, along the curved line outside the sandpit, the dark ground smoked and cracked. Things crashed and crashed from the far left, and the road to Wojin Station led to it on ordinary roads. The fourth sound-the hissing and humming stopped, and the black, dome-shaped object slowly sank into sight.

All these things happened so quickly that I stood motionless, dumbfounded and dizzy. If that death swept a complete circle, it must surprise me. But it passed, spared me, and made the night around me suddenly dark and strange.

The undulating hill seemed almost dark now, except for the place where its driveway was gray and pale under the deep blue sky in the middle of the night. It was dark and suddenly there was no one. The stars above are gathering, and in the west, the sky is still pale, bright, almost greenish blue. The tops of the pine trees and Hall's roof look sharp and black against the afterglow in the west. The Martians and their equipment were completely invisible, except for the thin mast on which their restless mirrors swayed. There are bushes and solitary trees everywhere, still smoking and glowing, and the houses leading to Woking Station are emitting flames into the evening air.

Apart from that and the terrible surprise, nothing has changed. A handful of black spots with white flags no longer exist. In my opinion, the tranquility of the night has hardly been broken.

I thought I was in this dark ordinary, helpless, unprotected and lonely darkness. Suddenly, it was like a thing fell on me from nothing, and came-fear.

After a lot of effort, I turned around and started to cross the stumbling block of heather.

The fear I felt was not rational fear, but panic horror, not only the Martian, but also the dusk and silence around me. This unparalleled effect made me cry silently like a child. Once I turned around, I dared not look back.

I remember that when I was playing, I had an extraordinary persuasive power. At present, when I was on the edge of safety, this mysterious death would leap through the cylindrical pits around me as quickly as the speed of light and knock me down.

.

The heat rays of Chobham Road.

It is doubtful how the Martians can kill people so quickly and silently. Many people believe that they can somehow generate intense heat in rooms that are almost absolutely non-conductive. They use a parallel beam of light to project a parallel beam of light onto any object of their choice through a polished parabolic mirror of unknown composition, just like a lighthouse parabolic mirror projects a beam. But no one absolutely proves these details. In any case, it is certain that a beam of heat is the essence of this problem. Heating and invisible instead of visible light. All combustibles will burn into flames when touched. Lead behaves like water, softening iron, breaking and melting glass. When it falls on water, it will explode into steam incontinently.

That night, nearly forty people lay under the stars around the pit, scorched and twisted beyond recognition, all night long, from Hosser to Maybury, this barren land and bright flames.

News of the massacre reached Chobham, Woking and Otshaw at about the same time. In "Woking", when the tragedy happened, the store was closed. Many people, store people, etc., were attracted by the stories they heard, walking along the Hossall Bridge and along the hedges. The road went past. Common ground. You might imagine that young people are happy after a day’s work, creating this novelty, just like they would create any novelty, an excuse for walking together and enjoying trivial flirting. You may find yourself buzzing on a dark road. . . .

Of course, so far, no one at Woking knew that the cylinder had been opened, although poor Henderson used a special wire to ride the messenger from the evening paper to the post office on a bicycle.

When these people came out in twos and threes in public, they found that few people would talk excitedly, staring at the rotating mirror on the sandpit. There is no doubt that the newcomers were quickly infected by the excitement of this occasion.

By 8:30, when the representative was destroyed, there could be a crowd of three hundred people or more in this place, except for those who left the road to approach the Martians. There were also three policemen, one of whom was instructed to do everything possible to stop people from returning and prevent them from approaching the cylinder. There are some boos in those souls who are always easier to think and excite, and the crowd always gives them opportunities to make noise and play circus.

Stent and Ogilvy anticipate the possibility of a collision. Once the Martian appears, it will telegraph from Horsul to the barracks to seek the protection of a team of soldiers to protect these strange creatures from violence. After that, they returned to lead the unfortunate path forward. The descriptions of their deaths I saw in the crowd were very consistent with my own impressions: three puffs of green smoke, thick hums and flashing flames.

But the escape range of that group is much narrower than mine. The only fact is that the hills of Heather Dune intercepted the lower part of the heat rays, thus saving them. If the height of the parabolic mirror is a few yards higher, no one can tell the story. They saw the flashing light, people fell, and an invisible hand illuminated the bushes as it rushed towards them through the twilight. Then, the whistling sound rose to the top of the pit, the beam of light swayed over their heads, illuminating the tops of the beech trees on the whole road, splitting the bricks, smashing the windows, launching the window frames, and then crumbling. The part of the gable of the house that collapsed in the ruins, closest to the corner.

Under the sudden hiss, hiss and glare of the burning trees, the panicked crowd seemed to hesitate. Sparks and burning branches began to fall on the road, a single leaf like a ball of flame. The hat and clothes caught fire. Then ordinary people cried. Amidst the screams and shouts, suddenly, a mounted police galloped in the chaos, clasping his hands and screaming.

"They're here!" a woman screamed, and then everyone kept turning to the people behind to push away the road to Woking. They must be blind like a flock of sheep. Between the high embankments, the road became narrow and the dark crowds crowded, and a desperate struggle took place. None of the crowd escaped. At least three people, two women and a little boy were crushed and trampled there, and died in terror and darkness.

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