Hollowpox The Hunt for Morrigan Crow - Jessica Townsend Page 0,100

in a critical condition.’

Elder Quinn cleared her throat, steeling herself to deliver the final blow.

‘The baboonwun lost control as the Hollowpox culminated and threw himself from the boat. Witnesses say he was comatose before his body hit the water, where it sank below the waves and didn’t resurface. Some of the crew attempted to save him, but …’ She pressed her lips tightly together. She didn’t need to say any more.

There was silence. Then a slow swell of whispers.

By the end of the day, the Hollowpox death count had risen to two. One of the young men had sadly died from his injuries.

Inside Wunsoc, the mood was grim.

Outside Wunsoc, fear and rage spread like fire through dry leaves.

The Prime Minister, Gideon Steed, took the extraordinary measure of declaring a state of emergency in Nevermoor, and ordered that a sunset curfew be put in place for all Wunimals in the city.

‘Those who break curfew will be arrested, charged and prosecuted to the extent of the law,’ was his ominous promise.

Guiscard Silverback came thundering onto the airwaves that afternoon, blazing with righteous anger. Unit 919 huddled around Miss Cheery’s old wireless radio to listen on the train trip home.

‘Most of us in the Wunimal community have already taken it upon ourselves to isolate, and still we are treated like criminals!’ Silverback roared across the airwaves. ‘We don’t wish to catch this virus! We don’t wish to hurt our fellow Nevermoorians! Need I remind the prime minister there have been TWO deaths? One human, one Wunimal. Yet Steed does nothing to protect his Wunimal citizens. Instead he continues to defer all moral responsibility for the care of these Hollowpox victims – yes, they too are victims – to the Wundrous Society! Wunsoc can only carry this burden so far. The government must step in.’

‘He’s right,’ Anah told them in a weary voice. She was spending a lot of her spare time assisting at the teaching hospital these days, even pitching in over the summer holidays. Morrigan had noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and the way her usually immaculate ringlets were now perpetually knotted in a messy, dirty bun. ‘The locked ward has become an entire locked wing, and it’s nearly full now, too.’

‘How many are there, Anah?’ asked Cadence.

‘Must be a hundred. More. I’ve lost count, they just keep coming,’ she finished, yawning widely. Arch got up without a word and began making Anah a cup of tea in her favourite mug.

Prime Minister Steed responded to Senator Silverback’s denunciation by claiming that the curfew was for the safety of Wunimals as well as humans.

‘If Nevermoor’s Wunimals don’t wish to be caught in the firing line of infection, they ought to stay home and stay safe,’ he said.

Morrigan shook her head. The Hollowpox wasn’t going to stop because of a curfew. Whatever it was – demon, parasite, monster – it wasn’t going to give up just because Wunimals stayed home at night. It wasn’t floating around like germs, infecting only those who came into contact with it.

It was hunting, and Wunimals were its prey.

It would find them no matter where they were.

When they arrived at Station 919, Morrigan lingered as the others waved goodbye.

‘Miss,’ she said. ‘How’s your friend?’

‘Roshni?’ Miss Cheery took a deep breath. ‘She’s still in hospital. Her injuries were pretty serious.’

Morrigan felt a stab of guilt. She wished they’d never gone to the Gobleian.

‘Will she be all right?’

‘Course she will. Off you go now. See you bright and early.’

She thought she saw Miss Cheery’s eyes go glassy with tears – but only for a second, before the conductor gathered herself up and turned away.

‘THIRTY-EIGHT WUNIMAL ARRESTS!’ Conall was bellowing when Morrigan arrived on Sub-Nine the next day. His voice came from the study chamber, but she could hear it from halfway down the long marble hall. ‘In one night! Senator Silverback won’t stand for this. He’ll put a stop to it. He must.’

‘I’m not sure he’ll be able to,’ Sofia replied, calm as ever. ‘The Stink are working well within their authority, Conall, and Steed has plenty of public support for his curfew. Guiscard Silverback can’t be seen to be too forceful—’

‘If Silverback can’t force Steed to do what’s right, we’ll take it to the Wunimal Rights Commission,’ Conall snapped. ‘Hell, we’ll storm parliament if we must!’

Morrigan reached the door and paused to peek inside. Conall paced back and forth as quickly and furiously as his walking stick would allow, clutching a newspaper in his free hand, while Sofia