The next day

Several miles from St Angel village

A new day had dawned for Great Britain and it was the second day of the invasion by the Martians. Overnight, more meteorites had landed up and down the British Isles. So far the main attacks by the Martians had been focused mostly in the countryside near some of the major cities such as Bristol, Dublin, Birmingham, Glasgow and Cardiff. Many had already been killed by the Martians and the British Army was helpless to try and stop them. Though some of the tripods that had landed had been destroyed, it was just their technology that seemed to overpower the British army, which was not helped by the flow of refugees clogging up the roads and slowing down the advancing soldiers.

Many villages had already been abandoned by the population as the Martians advanced and had fled to the nearby ports and beaches to be evacuated from Britain and Ireland to the mainland continent of Europe. At the moment, this was proving to be useful in getting the people off the islands but it was also a bad position. The transports were slow and had almost no weapons to defend themselves, the only weapons in fact being soldiers with guns. Warships had to be used to hover off shore to fire on any approaching Martians, but this too could only do very little to stop the Martian advance.

With the arrival of more Martian cylinders, the ranks of the invaders seemed to swell and they seemed to press on without mercy. It seemed that Great Britain would need a miracle to save it from this peril.

On a small road leading in the direction of St Angel village, Martin and the soldier walked towards the village. They had stopped for a sleep late last night and had woken up early to try and get to St Angel, where the soldier believed the army would still be so he decided to stay with Martin. They had not spoken much during the journey and had met virtually no one, no people or, thankfully, no Martians, yet.

"How far are from St Angel?" the soldier asked Martin.

"We shouldn't be too far," he replied. "Another few miles. If we keep moving at this rate, we might make it there by midday,"

"Right,"

On and on they walked. They passed by several burning forests and farmhouses, all having been destroyed by the Martian death rays on their tripods. At one point, they had to climb over an uprooted tree that was blocking the road. Still though, no one had come into their sights. It was as if they were the only people left in the entire country.

Then, as they walked down another part of the road that ran through the middle of a small forest, which had several smaller roads leading off into the trees, the soldier suddenly stopped. He held out an arm, stopping Martin dead in his tracks.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I just heard something," the soldier replied. He pointed down one of the side roads that led into a thick part of the forest. "It came from there,"

Martin listened carefully to try and hear the noise for himself. Sure enough, he could hear it. It was a humming-like sound. Fear instantly gripped him as if he had been grabbed by a giant hand. What if that was one of the tripods. If it was, they were going to have to hide quickly or they were as good as dead.

"Quick, in there!" the soldier whispered, pulling Martin over to a thick line of bushes near the side of the road.

They dived into it and looked out through the small hole they had made. Martin took out his revolver pistol and held it close. The humming drew closer and closer. The soldier and Martin tensed and readied themselves in case they had to run.

Then, a large shape came onto the road, but instead of it being a Martian tripod, it was actually a convoy of trucks. A few civilian cars were in the convoy as well. The trucks were filled with civilians and soldiers. They must have just escaped from somewhere or the soldiers might have run into the civilians and decided to help take them out of the area.

The soldier breathed a relieved sigh. "Thank God it's jus' a convoy," he said and they ran out of the bushes and into the road as the last of the trucks passed. "Hey, stop," he shouted, waving his arms in the air.

The first of the trucks came to a halt and the other cars one-by-one in the convoy slowed to a halt behind it. An officer climbed out of the lead truck and ran down the road towards them, a few soldiers and civilians in the vehicles not at the back looking down the road to see why they had stopped.

"Oi, wha's goin; on?" a man asked as he got out of his car.

"I think we found someone," another man answered.

The officer reached Martin and the soldier. "Bloody good luck ya were found," he said.

"Yeah," the soldier replied. "Thanks for stopping,"

"Where 'ave ya two come from?" the officer asked them.

"We found each other last night," Martin replied. "We were both heading towards St Angel. My daughter is there,"

"Well, ya won't be able to go to St Angle, sir," the officer told Martin, whose eyes went wide.

"Why?" Martin asked worryingly.

"Las' night, it got attacked. Another meteorite landed outside the village and the tripods innit burned down the entire village,"

Martin gasped. What! No, no his daughter was there and if the Martians had burned down the village, then she and her friends and Mr and Mrs Perkins…they were…

"Please tell me the people got out!" he begged. "Please, did they escape?"

Thankfully, to Martin's relief, the officer nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. "The people got out literally minutes before the meteorite opened up and the tripods came out,"

Martin breathed a sigh of relief. Oh thank God his daughter and her friends and Mr and Mrs Perkins were safe. Maybe they were not in St Angel where he would meet them, but at least they were still alive, but where were going to now that the village where he had intended to meet them was gone?

"Where have they gone then, the people from St Angel?" he asked the officer.

"They've fled south with an army unit to London," the officer told him. "And that's where we're 'eading. C'mon, 'op in," he added.

"Cheers," the soldier said and he and Martin ran over to the last truck in the convoy and climbed in, a soldier on board giving them help and they sat down on the seats along the wall. The back of the truck was filed with other civilians and soldiers, some injured. One woman sitting near them was cradling a small baby that was sleeping her arms. The officer ran back to the first truck and within a few seconds, the convoy was rolling forward again.

A sense of relief and happiness began to fill Martin. He was finally going to be reunited with his daughter and her friends then they could find his wife. The situation was finally starting to look up a little for him.