|The Foulness & Naze
Author: Stikibunn PM
The story of the Thunder Child in the Nineteenth century set War of the Worlds, written from varying points of view.Chapter 1: Carrie from the Jeff Wayne version gives her accountRated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Drama - Words: 1,160 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 06-14-07 - id: 3592997
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Authors note: This is not based off any one interpretation of the Thunder Child battle, neither the Pendragon version, Jeff Wayne nor original. There are too many points of view and too much information. Instead I am writing the way the battle unfolded my own way. Events are mixed about a bit. I originally wanted to just write the captain of the Thunder Child's point of view but I'm trying a few points of view of the same event
The boarding whistle of the S.S. Albury sounded and those on the quay began to panic. The steamer, one of the last sizeable civilian vessels in England, was about to leave. I was one of the lucky ones. I had left before the evacuation order was sounded. My father heard the report from Private Syndle, the only survivor of Horsell Common when he reported at Weybridge. The word spread down the ranks to my father who ordered me to leave London at once. At the time I was hesitant. I had not heard from my fiancé George in almost 2 days and I knew he could see Horsell Common from his home but I eventually did as my father said and fled.
I took nothing with me when I left, only a small suitcase and several effects I could not ever replace, my photographs of my mother, letters from George, Clementine, the doll my father bought for me when my mother died when I was a little girl, and three sets of comfortable clothes.
I locked up my house and left for the seaside, almost 12 hours before the first attacks on London. The artillery in the distance had just begun its assault and in the quiet of the late night I could hear its faint pounding in the distance. I took a cab to the station and an eastbound train and finding them already crowded with other pre-warned evacuees I went home and fetched my bicycle and set off for the eastern coast.
As it turned out, the 12 hours notice meant nothing in the end, I still ended out among the thousands of fleeing people stretching across the Essex Shoreline but the extra time did get me passage aboard the Albury.
But I wanted George.
I leaned over the railing in my lovelorn. I had by now heard tales from all sorts of fleeing people of the horrors of the Martian invaders and their Heat Ray. I thought I would never see him again. I was sure they had burned him to a crisp or he had suffocated from their Black Smoke… but then!
Suddenly his face was in the crowd. Our eyes locked "George!" I called but my voice was lost in the noise of the ship and the shouts of the panicking people. A flash of recognition in his eye and a wave told me he recognized me. I decided I would take my chances with the Martians and stay with him.
I pushed my way through the crowd but I was swimming against the tide, the crowd was trying to get on and I wanted off. I was almost there, almost to the gangplank. He had fought his way there too. Just a few more feet and he would be in my arms!
Suddenly the gangplank was removed "NO!" I cried. George looked equally devastated. Not only had he lost me but also almost all hope of fleeing the horror.
I almost cried in sorrow at his face and under his dignified gentlemanly exterior he undoubtfully felt worse.
"George, I love you!"
"Carrie." He called "Bon Voyage."
For a moment it was as if I was leaving on holiday. He smiled to reassure me.
"I'll see you in France and we'll visit Paris together."
A tear fell down my cheek as the crowd's excitement and panic grew.
I turned to where the crowd pointed. Over the hill stepped a massive metal thing, like a milking stool with knees. It had long tentacles coming out from its head and in one of these some kind of device I assumed was the Heat Ray.
There were screams, two more appeared. The Albury's paddle wheels began whirling and splashing. The captain wanted to get the Albury away from here as quickly as possible. I dared one last glance at George but his attention was caught up in the tripods.
I fought my way to the starboard side to catch a view of the fleet. One ship, a modern ironclad I later learned to be HMS Thunder Child sailed towards us. Why wasn't it firing?
The Martians ignored it. Instead they seemed somewhat curious. Perhaps they didn't know what ships were? I had heard Mars was a desert so that could mean they didn't know what ships were for.
One Tripod seemed interested in us, the last ship still close to shore. It drew closer, walking softly, like a man approaching an animal. I heard shouting from the bridge and the ship swiftly lurched violently as it came about to avoid being knocked down. It's interest in us passed as quickly as it came and we managed to get some distance between it and us.
The Thunder Child drew closer and closer and built up speed. It drew alongside our ship and turned very sharply, spraying the deck with seawater. The ironclad now stood between the tripods and us. We passed it in only a moment and sailed for the open sea. With us trailing the rear of the fleet of refugee ships we got a view of the battle that followed.
A stream of smoke floated from the Thunder Child's funnels as she charged the first fighting machine. The Tripods must've now realized the ship was a threat as they released their Black Smoke canisters but the Thunder Child was unhurt by the smoke as it's speed cut through the poison.
It emerged and fired before the Martians could deduce its location, destroying one machine. The second Martian fired its heat ray and the Thunder Child's stack and vents spurted fire. But she was still alive, although mortally wounded. She fired her cannons at the Martian that hit her and it collapsed to the ground, then in it's final gasp it drifted towards the final machine.
At that moment Thunder Child's power store ignited and there was an explosion of fire and steam. When it cleared the Martian was gone, and the Thunder Child's mast slowly sank into the water, the Union Jack, unburned, still flying until it disappeared into the seawater.
But the other steamers of the naval fleet had come to our rescue and stood behind us to escort us away.
I looked back to the shore. I hadn't seen the Tripods kill any people on shore… I hope George will be all right…