My War of the Worlds Sequel- WoTW: Aftermath.

[Anim8tr]

What a series of brilliantly executed chapters!

They provide a nice supplement to the story and some wonderful character development. All while holding the excitement level in check.

Well done!

[richardburton]

Excellent work, Nerfy - I think it's working very well. I think everyone is dying to hear what happened to the Sergeant and his men (me included! hehe).

[wotwfan48]

I was not on internet for a couples of days, boy i missed you all, and yesterday i went for a little while on the site, and read the story i finished it this morning, now, Nerfy, this is very good, I think it is very good to have different prespective, for the same story, meaning from one than more person, espescially coming from a character already in the story. I find your story very good, on the right track, and I am anxious myself to see more. bravo, very good, a lot of thrilling action. Chantale.

[Commandingtripod]

Nice Nerfy.

I wanna know if these "Remote Walkers" have Martians in them or not.
Keep it coming. ;D

[Poyks]

Just experimenting with illustration ideas for the story, and I just had to have a go at the human built fighting machine!

[EvilNerfherder]

Nice, Brendan!
CT, that would be telling!

[Anim8tr]

Poyks~ That has a wonderfully surreal feel to it!

I'm not sure how you did it (?), but I like it!

[Luperis]

That's a lovely picture, Poyks - it has great textures and a lovely eerie feel to it.

Nerfy - the last chapter was excellent. Keep up the good work - I can't wait to find out what happens next! ;D

[wotwfan48]

whow this is something, Poyks, I am humble by seeing this. Very nice, I always go on my computer before going to bed, and boy I am so glad i came to that forum first. Chantale.

[EvilNerfherder]

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS: AFTERMATH



40. The Sergeant’s Tale (iii)




The Sergeant paused in his recollections once more. He waved his champagne glass meaningfully again with that usual mischievous twinkle in his eye. I sighed, as his seemingly unquenchable thirst meant I would have to leave the warmth of my drawing room (it was now November and the cold nights were drawing in) and venture down into the cold cellar for more essential supplies.
As I passed the big leaded window in the hall I spied a fat moon hanging pale and bloated in the clear, cloudless sky amongst a glittering carpet of stars. I shuddered as I pondered the possibility that, on a distant red planet far away, somewhere amongst those friendly looking stars, monstrous beings may still be plotting another attempt to take our world from us.
When I had secured another bottle of champagne, I returned to the drawing room to find my two friends in deep and earnest conversation. All talk stopped at my approach, though, and my friends merely smiled at me as if nothing of importance had taken place. I did not, in the end, feel justified in asking the subject of their discussion, even though I felt sure that something had happened. I was not to find out the importance of that short exchange until years later, but that, perhaps, is for another time.
When all glasses had been refilled and fresh cigars lit, the Sergeant cleared his throat grandly and recommenced the story of how he had come to our rescue on the Martian base.

‘ Well, as I said before, we stood behind the rock watchin’ the Martian base moving away from us. The only thing we could do was follow it, so that’s precisely what we did. Not much of a plan. I know, friends, but we were only five men and so we had to look for an opportunity. It moved quickly but we could move quickly too and we managed to keep close, but not so close as the little things flying around it could see us. Or so we hoped.
Wayne then told us the bad news. He only had an hours air left in his tank. In all the excitement, we realised that none of us had checked the meters on our suits. The rest of us checked our supplies and found that we didn’t have much more. That forced our hands a bit, as I’ll bet you can imagine. We had two choices now, get on board the base somehow or get to the surface and try and get more oxygen and maybe some friends to help us out.
We had a bit of a chat then and decided it would be easier to try and get on board the thing. Besides, all our mates were prisoners and we didn’t think they could wait. It galled us to think of what could be happenin’ to you all on board that thing, I can tell you.
Glenn, good, brave lad that he is, then suggested we just start firing at the thing in the hopes of enticing the tube down so we could get on board. Sometimes the most simple plans are the best as any commander will tell you, so that’s just what we did.
Nothing seemed to happen for a bit after the first volley of shots we fired so we loosed off more explosive harpoons at the belly of the thing. Then, the machine slowed and came to a halt.
We saw the elevatin’ tube begin to come down. We could see there were about ten Martians in it and all we could do now was pray that we were quicker than them. As soon as the platform in the tube hit the seabed the Martians started to spill out and we picked them off through the door of the tube like rats in a barrel. Never have I seen a battle so short, one or two of the things were slippery and dodged about a bit, but my sharp eyed boys took them down anyway. The last one managed to get a shot off which narrowly missed Thomas, but Glenn got him right through the glass in it’s helmet and it flopped over dead as a dodo.
We rushed onto the platform in the tube just before it started to go up again.
Now was the nervous part. We didn’t know how much the things up there knew and whether there would be a welcoming party but by God we were going to have at them or die tryin’.
The trip up the tube seemed to take forever. We checked our weapons and smiled at each other even though we knew we could be marchin’ straight into an awful death. But, if death was on the cards, a soldiers death it would be, gun in hand and with the smell of our enemies blood in our nostrils. That was how fired up we now were.
The platform reached the top. Two Martians stood behind a console and one had time to squeak in surprise before I shot its eye out. We looked around quickly to see if there were any more but there weren’t. I don’t think I’ll ever figure the Martian mind. Why there were not hundreds of the things waiting for us, I’ll never know. Perhaps God was on our side after all.
We were in air now so we took of our helmets and stripped off our suits.
Now it was time to see what could be done.’

[wotwfan48]

very good Nerfy, well done. I want to say can't wait for more, but dont worry i am not asking for now. Not yet lol.Chantale. ;D

[Commandingtripod]

Nicely done.

This blends really well with the story.
Can't wait for more. ;D

[EvilNerfherder]

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS: AFTERMATH.


41.The Sergeant’s Tale (iv)



‘So, there we were, well behind enemy lines and ready to fight,’ the Sergeant continued. A log popped in the fire and we started a little in our comfortable chairs. The Sergeant stared into the crackling flames for a moment, then carried on with his tale.
‘The tube room was big and we saw that there were passageways leading off every which way. We didn’t hang about for fear that we may lose any element of surprise we might have got. We picked the first passage we fancied and went off up it, weapons ready. A little group of Martians appeared out of a room and we engaged them. We were low on harpoons for our guns now and so we took great care with our aim. We still seemed to have surprise on or side and they all fell quickly, bar one that skittered off on like a scared rat. Thomas wanted to give chase but I stopped him. It was best, I thought, to stay together in this strange place. We couldn’t afford to lose a single man.
We knew now we didn’t have much time. The thing that had ran off could warn its pals at any moment so we had to work quickly.
We picked up the weapons from the foe we had beaten, discarded our own, and set off again.
We started to search rooms along the way. Most were quiet and just contained machinery of one sort or another. In another a Martian was feeding. I don’t need to tell you what that means. It looked around just in time to get hit by the weapon I held. I was surprised to find that this was a weapon I hadn’t seen before. No beam came from it, that I could see anyway. I pointed the gun, pulled the trigger and the Martian squeaked and exploded in a mess of green guts. There’s another one to give the boffins happy dreams, I’ll warrant.
We checked quickly if the poor man the thing had been feedin’ off could be helped but he was beyond even God’s benevolent hand. Too much of his blood had been supped and he was pale and fading fast.
‘’Where is everybody else, mate?’’ I asked him as gently as I could.
‘’Down the next passageway. Big room with doors with red switches,’’ he answered with no little effort.
‘’Thank you,’’ I said, meaning it and patted his arm.
That poor young sailor even managed a smile at us before the last of his blood dripped out and he passed on to wherever good, brave sailors go.
‘’Come on, boys,’’ I said to my men. ‘’Time to get our pals out, eh?’’
As we left that room, another small unit of Martians were walkin’ by and we painted the walls green with their innards. They didn’t even have time to get one shot off in reply.
I still couldn’t believe that we hadn’t been spotted and their weren’t hundreds of them at us. Could our luck hold out? We couldn’t take any chances and we were watchful.
We went into the next passage, the one, that sailor had told us of, and carefully approached the area where the prison was meant to be.
The door led to a big room, as you will remember, Smith. There were a lot of doors and all had a red switch on to the right of it.
Then, from around a corner at the end of the room came another load of Martians. We ducked behind some kind of machine the stood to one side just in time for some shots to sail over our heads. One of these Martians were using Heatray rifles, whilst the others used the new kind, and a few black marks appeared on the walls above us.
We took it in turns to lean around the side of the machine and fire off volleys at the things as they dodged about this way and that. Drawing a bead on them was tough, I can tell you. Those blighters can move when they want to. One or two of them fell, though but one shot from the one carrying the Heatray narrowly missed Dawson leaving a great black burn on his arm. His flesh sizzled and he cried out, as well he might. He fell back behind the machine and let the rest of us carry on the fight.
I leaned around the machine again and took aim at the Martian with the Heatray rifle. As I loosed off a shot it moved a little, but not far enough.
The strangest, but luckiest I suppose, thing happened. My shot must have hit the Martians weapon as it exploded with a bright flash. The Martian just had time to scream horribly as it and all it’s comrades were torn to pieces.
We could not resist letting off a little cheer then but common sense prevailed. We had no idea when there would be more of those fiends about, so we quickly got back to work.
We hurried to the first door and pushed the switch. A buzzer sounded and the door opened.
And that, my friends, is how we came upon my friend Smith.’’

The Sergeant sat back, satisfied, in his armchair and Wells nodded approvingly.
‘’A ripping tale indeed,’’ Wells said in his thin cockney accent. ‘’One worthy, perhaps, of one of my novels, eh?’’
We laughed long and hearty at this and spent the rest of the evening in talk of other things not concerning Martians or death.

[EvilNerfherder]

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS: AFTERMATH.


42. A Shocking Discovery.



So, here we were, liberated from our prison on board the Martian base by the grinning commandos. The Sergeant stepped forward and clapped me heartily on the back.
‘It’s good to see you, my friend,’ he said. ‘Good to see you all alive and well!’
The men in the cell cheered our rescuers with great gusto.
‘ Shh! Come on, we have to move it,’’ the Sergeant said. ‘’I doubt we’ll be left in peace for long.’
Surprised and thankful that we in the cell were, those words reminded us we weren’t out of the woods yet. Churchill jumped up and growled.
‘ You heard the man. Let’s move!’
The rest of us got to our feet and made ready to follow the grinning men at the door. Even Dawson, obviously in pain and gingerly holding his burnt arm, seemed of good cheer.
‘What weapons do you have?’ Churchill asked the Sergeant.
‘Just these odd things,’’ the man answered pointing to the rifle he carried. ‘There will be a few scattered around this room that may work and we shall have to find more along the way for you boys.’
‘What about the other rooms?’ I asked. ‘There may be others’
‘Next stop,’ the Sergeant winked.
We left the cell and went to the other doors. Sadly, there were no more than ten men to be found in those other rooms. The Martians had been taking men away from those cells just like they had from ours, we were told.
A few of the men picked up the Martian weapons that lay here and there about the room. Greetings were quickly exchanged and Churchill tried to get the men into some semblance of order.
‘We may now have a fight on our hands, men,’ he said. ‘Our friends here report that they did not come up against as much resistance as they expected and that does not bode well. We can expect to meet many Martians before we leave this machine and it may not be an easy fight. That we have gotten this far, though, gives me hope and says much about the British spirit. We will do what we must to bring this monstrous machine, and the Martians that cower within it, to its end and if we can survive, so much the better. I say we must not allow the Martians to escape with this weapon and we must prevail!’
The motley gathering of men were visibly stirred by these words, and I include myself in that number. We moved off with a new sense of purpose.

The first passageway we came across was empty of Martians. The interior of the base could be quite disorientating to move around. No signs, nothing on the smooth, glowing walls to give us any indication of where we could be in this place. We walked around, in silence and on guard, for a while trying to get our bearings. Those with weapons walked at the front and the rear in an effort to cover those who could not defend themselves.
We entered any rooms we found in the hope of finding any of our fellow humans who had been taken away but may still survive.
Most rooms contained strange machinery or were empty. One or two had solitary or small groups of Martians in them that were quickly despatched before they could raise the alarm.
In one room, we discovered what had happened to some of those poor souls who had been taken away from the cells.
As we entered, two Martians looked up from a long bench they were bent over. Each was quickly sent to their doom with a well-placed shot from the invisible beam weapons and we could see the work they had been engaged in.
On the bench, a remote walker lay prone. Beyond that, an unmoving man was strapped down, his mouth open wide in a silent scream of terror. The worst realisation was yet to come.
The panel at the back of the remote walkers head was open. The man beyond had had the top of his skull sliced cleanly off and, instead of seeing the expected brain exposed, there was nothing but a red gaping hole. Blood dripped from that the unfortunate man’s head with a slow pitter-patter.
It took no more than a second, and the sight of the blood smears around the panel in the remote walkers glittering head, to understand the implications of this scene.
A man behind me vomited as he came to the same conclusions as I, and doubtless the others who stood open-mouthed and pale in the doorway.
The Martians, with supreme and diabolic ingenuity, were using the brains of men to somehow control the remote walkers. Like cattle, we were not only being used as a source of nutrition, but the Martians could also turn other parts of us to equally good use. Man was being used as a weapon against his fellow man.
As we stood shocked, the legs of the thing moved a little and it tried to right itself. Slowly, painfully, it got to its feet and faced us. Did I detect an air of horror in that terrible thing’s stance. Did it know what it was? Had it not been given it’s instructions and still retained some part of it’s humanity?
The matter was decided by Glenn who, face full of horror and pity, went quietly behind it. It did not even attempt to move or defend itself as Glenn smashed the butt of his weapon into the open panel in it’s head.
The remote walker’s legs instantly folded and it fell to the ground with a crash, splashing small gobbets of gore onto the pristine, shining floor.
Despondent and disgusted, our party left the room.

[Poyks]

That's some serious creative output! Great work!

[Commandingtripod]

Nice stuff Nerfy. ;D

[richardburton]

Damn good stuff, mate! Really got a sense of horror in that last bit - great descriptions and tension. The Sergeant's tale fits in beautifully with the rest of the story.

[smitty97]

This is so very well written, enjoying every 'page'

[Luperis]

Great stuff. ;D.
Keep up the good work.

[Anim8tr]

What a great combo of Si-Fi, action and horror!

I like your skillful juxtpositing of the latest chapters there, Nerf! It shows a talented writing skill and is well thought through!

Vastly artistic and entertaining writing! Keep up the brilliance!