Super Trick or Treat System

By midnight, the hot trees on the slopes of Richmond Park and the dazzling light of Kingston Mountain illuminate the black smoke network, covering the entire valley of the Thames, extending to the human eye. Then, the two Martians slowly wade through the water, turning the hissing jet of steam in this way.

They did not use heat rays that night, either because the supply of materials they produced was limited, or because they did not want to destroy the country, but only suppressed and overridden the opposition they caused. In the latter goal, they certainly succeeded. The organized opposition movement ended on Sunday night. Since then, no one will oppose them anymore, so the career is hopeless. Even the crew of the torpedo boats and destroyers with the rapid-fire aircraft refused to stop, changed and fell again. After that night, the only offensive action people offended was to prepare mines and traps, even convulsing because of their crazy energy.

One must and may think that the fate of these shells to Escher is waiting so nervously in the twilight. There are no survivors. One can imagine orderly expectations, the officers are alert and alert, the gunmen are ready, the ammunition is ready, the bent gunmen and their horses and light trucks, the crowds of civilian spectators stand within the allowed range, the evening rest, Webb Rich was burned by the ambulance and hospital tent; then, Mars fired, making a dull noise, and clumsy projectiles whirled over trees and houses and shattered in the nearby fields.

It may be conceivable that the attention suddenly shifted, and the black spread rapidly, enveloped the darkness, went straight to heaven, towering into the clouds, turning the twilight into tangible darkness, and a strange and terrible vapor poison gas swept towards Victims, men and victims. Horses near it are faintly visible, running, screaming, falling, frustrated, gunshots suddenly abandoned, people suffocating and twisting on the ground, and the opaque chimney expands rapidly. Then there is night and extinction-just a silent impenetrable vapor hiding its dead.

Before dawn, black steam came from the streets of Richmond, and the disintegrated government organization made the final efforts of the people in London to flee the plane.

sixteen.

Exodus from London.

So, you learned about the wave of fear that swept the world's largest city at dawn on Monday-flight traffic quickly rose into a torrent, violently impacted in the boiling commotion around the train station, ready to go, and sparked a terrible struggle. Sail on the Thames and hurriedly sail through every available channel to the north and east. By ten o'clock, the police organization, even at noon, and even the railway organization, have lost continuity, lost shape and efficiency, drained, softened, and finally operated in the rapid liquefaction of social institutions.

Before midnight on Sunday, all railway lines north of the Thames and the people in the southeast were warned that trains were filling up. Even at two o'clock, people were fighting brutally for the standing space in the carriage. Even on Bishopsgate Street, a few hundred yards or more from Liverpool Street Station, people were trampled and crushed by three o'clock. Revolvers were fired, people were stabbed, and the policemen sent to direct traffic were exhausted and angered the heads of those called to protect them.

As the day passed, the engine driver and Stokes refused to return to London, and the pressure of flights forced people to stay away from the station and the road heading north. By noon, I saw the Martians in Barnes, and masses of slowly sinking black vapor drove along the Thames River, through the flat land of Lambeth, cutting off all escapes on the bridge. Another silver drove through Yilin, on a small island of survivors on Castle Hill, still alive, but unable to escape.

After a futile struggle, he obtained a Northwest train plowing through the engine of the Jock Farm with a freight yard loaded with trains. The man who screamed and fought with a dozen stalwart men to keep the audience from breaking and fighting to drive his stove-my brother appeared in On the way to Chalk Farm, hiding in the passing vehicles, the most important thing is to ride a bicycle. The front tire of the machine he got was punctured and punctured the window, but despite this, he stood up without injury, only cut his wrist. The steep foot of Mount Haverstock was impassable due to several overturned horses, and my brother crashed into Belize Road.

As a result, he got rid of the panic anger, bypassed Edgware Road, and arrived in Edgware at about seven, fasted and exhausted, but far ahead of the crowd. People along the road stood in the driveway curiously. He was passed by many cyclists, some cavalry and two cars. One mile from Edgware, the rim of the wheel broke and the machine could not ride. He left it on the side of the road and trudged through the village. Half of the shops were opened on the main street of this place, and people crowded on the sidewalks, doorways and windows, staring wide-eyed, and began this extraordinary fleeing procession. He successfully obtained some food in a hotel.

For a while, he stayed, not knowing what to do next. The number of flying people has increased. Many of them, such as my brother, seem to tend to wander around this place. There is no latest news about Martian invaders.

The road was crowded at that time, but it was far from crowded. At that time, most of the fugitives were riding bicycles, but soon there were cars, and Hansom’s taxis and carriages arrived, and dust was scattered on the road to St Albans.

The road to Chelmsford, where some of his friends lived, might have been a vague idea that eventually led my brother into a quiet driveway that stretched east. Now he came to a ladder, crossed it, and walked northeast along a small path. He passed several farmhouses and some small places he didn't know their names. He had few fugitives until he happened to meet two ladies who had become travelers on the path leading to High Barnet. He just caught up to them to save them.

He heard their screams and quickly turned the corner to see a few men struggling to drag them out of the pony carriage they were driving, while a third of them had difficulty holding the frightened pony s head. A lady, a short woman in white clothes, was just screaming. The other was a dark and slender body. He stretched out his fist to the man, who grabbed her arm with the whip held by her loose hand.

My brother immediately grasped the situation, yelled and rushed towards the struggle. One of them stopped and turned to him, and my brother realized from his opponent's face that a fight was inevitable, and as a professional boxer, he immediately walked into him and pushed him down on the recliner.

There was no time, he was about to kick the knight, and my brother calmed him down with his kick and grabbed the collar of the man who was pulling the slender lady's arm. He heard the hoof hoarse, the whip was in his face, the third opponent hit his eyes, and the man he was holding struggled freely and drove down his original path down the driveway.

He was a little stunned, and found himself facing the man holding the horse's head, and realized that the carriage that was lying down retreated from the driveway, swaying from side to side, and the woman in the carriage looking back. The man in front of him was burly, tried to close, then hit him with a punch. Then, realizing that he had been abandoned, he avoided the carriage and circumvented the carriage, followed by the fugitive behind the strong man, he escaped.

Suddenly he stumbled and fell. His direct followers went all out, he stood up and met several opponents again. If this slender lady is not very happy to pull up and return to his help, he has little chance of them. It seemed that she had always carried the revolver, but when she and her companion were attacked, it remained in the seat. She fired at six yards and almost missed my brother. The robber's courage weakened, and his companion followed him, cursing his cowardice. They both stopped their eyes in the driveway, and the third person lay there irrationally.

"Take this!" the slender lady said, and then she gave my brother her revolver.

"Back on the recliner," my brother said, wiping the blood from his cracked lips.

She turned around without a word-they were both panting-and they returned to the place where the woman in white was trying to stop the frightened pony.

The robber had obviously had enough. When my brother looked again, they were retreating.

My brother said, "If I could, I would sit here." Then he sat in the empty front seat. The lady looked up at her shoulder.

"Give me the rope," she said, and then lowered the whip along the side of the pony. After a while, the curve hid the three people from my brother's eyes.

So, very unexpectedly, my brother found himself, panting, mouth open, chin bruised, **** knuckles on his knuckles, and driving along an unknown lane with these two women.

He learned that they were the wife and sister of a surgeon living in Stanmore. They had arrived within a few hours of the dangerous situation and heard the sound of Martians marching at a train station. He hurried home and angered the women-their servant left them two days ago-packed some food and put the revolver on the seat-fortunately my brother-told them to drive to Edgware and want to sit The train is there. He stopped to tell the neighbor. He said that he would catch up with them around 4:30 in the morning, and it was almost nine now, and they knew nothing about him. Since they could not pass through the location, they could not stay there, so they entered this path.

That was when they stopped now closer to New Barnett, and they told my brother's story piecemeal. He promised to be with them, at least until they decide what to do, or until the missing person arrives, and then he fired an expert gun on the revolver, which was a strange weapon for him, the purpose It makes them full of confidence.

They camped by the roadside, and the pony became happy in the hedge. He told them about his experience of escaping from London and all he knew about these Martians and their actions. The sun climbed in the sky, and after a while, their conversation disappeared, making people uneasy. There were a few pedestrians in the driveway, and my brother collected as much information as possible. Each of his intermittent answers deepened the impression of the great disasters suffered by mankind and deepened the persuasiveness of the urgent need to prosecute this flight. He urged them to resolve the matter.

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