Lemony Snicket - The Hostile Hospital

"I'll go first," she said. "I invented it, so I'd better test it."

"No," Klaus said. "We're not taking turns."

"Together," Sunny agreed.

"If we all go down together," Violet said, "I'm not sure the cord will hold."

"We're not leaving anyone behind," Klaus said firmly. "Not this time. Either we all escape, or none of us do."

"But if none of us do," Violet said tearfully, "then there won't be any Baudelaires left. Olaf will have won."

Klaus reached into his pocket and brought out a sheet of paper. He unfolded it, and his sisters could see that it was page thirteen of the Snicket file. He pointed to the photograph of the Baudelaire parents and the sentence that was printed below it. "'Because of the evidence discussed on page nine,'" he read out loud, "'experts now suspect that there may in fact be one survivor of the fire, but the survivor's whereabouts are unknown.' We've got to survive, too--so we can find out what happened, and bring Olaf to justice."

"But if we take turns," Violet said frantically, "there's a better chance that one of us will survive."

"We're not leaving anyone behind," Klaus said firmly. "That's what makes us different from Olaf."

Violet thought for a moment, and nodded. "You're right," she said.

Olaf's associate kicked at the door, and the crack grew bigger. The children could see a tiny orange light shining in the hallway and realized that the fire and the associate must have reached the door at the same time.

"I'm scared," Violet said.

"I'm frightened," Klaus said.

"Sheer terror," Sunny said, and the associate kicked the door again, forcing a few sparks through the crack in the door. The Baudelaires looked at one another, and each child grabbed the rubber band cord with one hand. With their other hands they clasped one another, and then, without another word, they leaped out of the window of Heimlich Hospital.

STOP

There are many things in this world I do not know. I do not know how butterflies get out of their cocoons without damaging their wings. I do not know why anyone would boil vegetables when roasting them is tastier. I do not know how to make olive oil, and I do not know why dogs bark before an earthquake, and I do not know why some people voluntarily choose to climb mountains where it is freezing and difficult to breathe, or live in the suburbs, where the coffee is watery and all of the houses look alike. I do not know where the Baudelaire children are now, or if they are safe or if they are even alive. But there are some things I do know, and one of them is that the window of the supply closet in the Ward for People with Nasty Rashes of Heimlich Hospital was not on the third floor or the fourth floor, as Klaus had guessed. The window was on the second floor, so that when the three children dropped through the smoky air, clinging to the rubber band cord for dear life, Violet's invention worked perfectly. Like a yo-yo, the children bounced gently up and down, brushing their feet against one of the bushes planted in front of the hospital, and after a few bounces it was safe to drop to the ground and hug each other with relief.

"We made it," Violet said. "It was a close call, but we survived."

The Baudelaires looked behind them at the hospital, and saw just how close a call it had been. The building looked like a fiery ghost, with great bursts of flame coming from the windows, and oceans of smoke pouring from great gaping holes in the walls. The children could hear glass shattering as the windows burned away, and the crackle of wood as the floors fell through. It occurred to the children that their own house must have looked like this on the day it burned down, and they stepped back from the burning building and huddled together as the air grew thick with ashes and smoke, obscuring the hospital from view.

"Where can we go?" Klaus asked, shouting over the roar of the fire. "Any minute now, the crowd will figure out that we're not in the unfinished half of the hospital, and return here."

"Run!" Sunny shrieked.

"But we can't even see where we're going!" Violet cried. "The whole area is filling up with smoke!"

"Stay down!" Klaus said, dropping to the ground and beginning to crawl. "In The Encyclopedia of Escaping Arson, the author wrote that there's more oxygen closer to the ground, so we can breathe more easily. But we need to get to some kind of shelter right away."

"Where will we find some kind of shelter, in this empty landscape?" Violet asked, crawling behind her brother. "The hospital is the only building for miles, and it's burning to the ground!"

"I don't know," Klaus said, coughing loudly, "but we can't breathe in this smoke for long!"

"Hurry up!" the Baudelaires heard a voice call out of the smoke. "This way!" A long, black shape emerged from the smoky air, and the children saw it was an automobile, pulling up in front of the hospital. An automobile, of course, is a kind of shelter, but the siblings froze on the ground and dared not crawl an inch farther toward the car.

"Hurry up!" Olaf's voice said again. "Hurry up or I'll leave you behind!"

"I'm coming, darling." From behind them, the Baudelaires heard the reply of Esmé Squalor. "Lucafont and Flacutono are with me, and the ladies are following behind. I had them take all the medical coats we could find, in case we need them for costumes again."

"Good thinking," Olaf replied. "Can you see the car in the smoke?"

"Yes," Esmé said, her voice growing closer. The Baudelaires could hear the odd footsteps of her stiletto-heeled shoes as she strode toward the automobile. "Open the trunk, darling, and we'll put the costumes in."

"Oh, all right," Olaf sighed, and the children saw the tall figure of their enemy step out of the car.

"Wait up, Olaf!" the bald man cried.

"You fool," Olaf replied. "I told you to call me Mattathias until we leave the hospital grounds. Hurry up and get in the car. The Snicket file wasn't in the Library of Records, but I think I know where I can find it. Once we destroy those thirteen pages, there'll be no stopping us."

"We've got to destroy the Baudelaires, too," Esmé said.

"We would have destroyed them, if all of you hadn't messed up my plan," he said, "but never mind that. We have to get out of here before the authorities come."

"But your largest assistant is still in the Rash Ward, looking for the brats!" the bald man said, and the children heard him open the door of the automobile.

The hook-handed man spoke up, and the children could see his odd shape in the smoke as he got into the car after the bald assistant. "The Ward for People with Nasty Rashes is entirely destroyed," he said. "I hope the big one got out O.K."

"We're not going to wait around to find out if that fool lived or died," Olaf snarled. "As soon as the ladies can put the costumes in the trunk, we'll get out of here. It's been splendid setting this fire, but we've got to find the Snicket file as soon as possible, before You-Know-Who does."

"V.F.D.!" Esmé said with a cackle. "The real V.F.D., that is, not those ridiculous singers!"

The trunk opened with a creak, and the children saw the shadow of the trunk's lid flip open into the smoky air. The lid was peppered with tiny holes--bullet holes, it looked like, undoubtedly from being pursued by the police. Olaf strode back to the car and continued giving orders.

"Get out of the front seat, you idiots," Olaf said. "My girlfriend sits in front, and the rest of you can pile in the back."

"Yes, boss," the bald man replied.

"We have the costumes, Mattathias." The voice of one of the powder-faced women was faint in the smoke. "Just give us a few seconds to reach the car."

Violet leaned as close as she could to her siblings so she could whisper to them without being heard. "We've got to go in there," she said.