Mister Monday by Garth Nix Page A

the laughs and giggles from the rest of the class, who’d seen him flinch.
    “Yes.”
    “Leaf sent me an e-mail to give to you,” she said, handing him a folded piece of paper. Arthur took it, ignoring the catcalls from the boys behind her.
    “Ignore those mutants,” the girl said in a loud voice. She smiled and ran back to join her particular clique of tall, bored-looking girls.
    Arthur put the paper in his pocket and left the gym, his face burning. He wasn’t sure what made him more embarrassed: getting told to go and play tiddledywinks by Weightman or getting a note from a girl in full view of everyone else.
    He took refuge in the library. After explaining to the librarian that he was excused from gym and showing her his note, he took a good look around, then decided to sit at one of the desks on the second floor, next to a window that overlooked the front of the school and the street.
    The first thing he did was build some walls on the desk out of large reference books, to make a private cubby. Unless someone came up and looked over his shoulder, nobody would be able to see what he was reading.
    Then he took the Key and the Atlas from his bag and laid them down with Leaf’s note on the desk. As he did so, he caught the flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked out the window, and, as he had more than half-expected, there were the dog-faces. Sliding out from between parked cars and trees. Slinking forward to gaze up at his window. They knew exactly where he was.
    Arthur had hoped he would feel more secure if he could actually see them. That he would feel braver for having exposed himself at the window. But he didn’t. He shivered as they congregated into a mob, all of them staring wordlessly up at him. So far, none had shown wings like the one that had flown to his window the night before. But perhaps that was only a matter of time.
    Forcing himself to look away, he imagined that he was a white mouse, tearing its gaze away from a hooded cobra. That having done so, he would be able to escape.
    He felt a very strong desire to flee into the deeper parts of the library, to hide between the stacks of comforting books. But that wouldn’t help, he knew. At least here he knew where the dog-faces were. What they were was another question, one of the many Arthur was making into a mental list.
    Arthur unfolded the printout of Leaf’s e-mail and read:
     
To: pinkhead55tepidmail.com
From: raprepteam20biohaz.gov
     
    Hi Allie
    This is me, Leaf. can you pass this message on to arthur penhaligon? boy who flaked on the run last Monday? kind of thin + pale, about ed’s height hair like gary krag v. important he gets this. gotta run. thanx
    Leaf
    hi art
    sorry we didn’t c u at hospital. ed got sick tues. nite, and then mom + dad did + aunt mango (not real name). i’m not sick, tho our house is quarantine. many doctors cops all over our place, in biohazard suitz, v. scary pigface. They think new flu and shots DON’T WORK. no one really, really sick yet but when I go near ed or the others I smell the same revolto smell that the DOG_FACED GUYS had like they’re connected, you know but the doctors can’t smell it they’re in suits and neither can ed or parents, tho so much snot coming out that;s no surprise. docs have machine that smells 4 them, and it says e’thing okay when obviously not. no one believes me.
    i think the virus from dog-faces I REALLY HOPE you can see them you have to work it out I’M DEPENDING ON YOU.
    feds cut off net and phone I think afraid of big panic. this from one of the docs palmtops which I STOLE and they’ll figure it out real soon.
    im afraid

Chapter Five
    A rthur stared at the last words for a few seconds: im afraid.
    He shivered, folded the printout, and put it back in his pocket. He felt his breathing catch again and concentrated on a steady, slow rhythm. Breathe in slowly, hold it, breathe out slowly. But all the time his mind was racing. This was even worse than he