The next few days are a blur. Hiding in boats, often walking at night, tripods everywhere!
The coasts are no longer safe. I find myself back in London, where I can hide among the houses. I have to get back to see if Grauben is still alive. One night after a short sleep in some long grass I find I'm no longer alone.
A terrified curate is here, from a local church that was destroyed by the Martians. He's moaning about how we must have sinned and this is God's punishment. He isn't taking any care - somebody will see him! And there's a tripod coming this way! It will walk right over us!