Lemony Snicket - The Hostile Hospital

"Where?" Klaus whispered in reply.

"In the trunk," Violet replied. "It's our only chance to get out of here without getting captured--or worse."

"Culech!" Sunny said in a horrified whisper, which meant something along the lines of "Getting in the trunk is the same thing as getting captured!"

"We've got to get the rest of the Snicket file before Olaf does," Violet said, "or we'll never be able to clear our names."

"Or bring Olaf to justice," Klaus said.

"Ezan," Sunny said, which meant "Or find out if one of our parents really survived the fire."

"The only way we can do all those things," Violet said, "is to get in the trunk of that car."

Olaf's voice floated through the smoke, as deceitful and dangerous as the fire itself. "Get in the car this instant!" he ordered his associates. "I'm going to leave at the count of three."

The Baudelaires gripped each other's hands so firmly that it hurt to hang on. "Think of everything we have survived together," Violet whispered. "We've lived through countless unfortunate events, only to find ourselves alone. If one of our parents has survived, it'll all be worthwhile. We have to find them if it's the last thing we do."

"One!"

Klaus looked at the gaping trunk, which looked like the mouth of some dark and smoky beast, eager to devour him and his siblings. "You're right," he murmured finally. "We can't stay in this smoky air much longer, or we'll become asphyxiated. The shelter of the trunk is our only hope."

"Yes!" Sunny whispered.

"Two!"

The Baudelaire children stood up and scurried into the trunk of Count Olaf's car. The trunk was damp and smelled terrible, but the children crawled deep into its depths so they wouldn't be seen.

"Wait!" the powder-faced woman called, and the Baudelaires felt the slap of the medical coats being tossed on top of them. "I don't want to be left behind! I can't breathe out here!"

"Will we be able to breathe in here?" Violet asked Klaus as quietly as she could.

"Yes," Klaus said. "Air will come through the bullet holes. This is not the sort of shelter I had in mind, but I guess it might do."

"Golos," Sunny said, which meant "It'll have to do, until something better comes along," and her siblings nodded.

"Three!"

The trunk slammed closed, leaving them in utter darkness, and their shelter rattled and shook as Olaf started the engine and began to drive across the landscape, which was as flat and desolate as ever. But the children could not see outside, of course. In the blackness of the trunk, they could not see anything at all. They could only hear their long, shivering breaths as the air rushed through the bullet holes, and feel their shoulders tremble as they shivered in fear. It was not the sort of shelter the children had in mind, never in their entire lives, but as they huddled together they guessed it might do. For the Baudelaire orphans--if indeed they were still orphans--the shelter of Count Olaf's trunk would have to do, until something better came along.

LEMONY SNICKET is widely regarded as one of the most difficult children's authors to capture and imprison. Recently, he had to give up on his hobbies due to laws regarding musical performances in mountainous terrain. Most things written about him are not true, but this is.

BRETT HELQUIST was born in Ganado, Arizona, grew up in Orem, Utah, and now lives in New York City, where among other noble pursuits, he translates Mr. Snicket's obscure findings into the images that help readers understand the horror of the Baudelaires' plight.

I hope that this letter is not mangled by the ferocious and deadly ... in which I am hiding now. ... thirteen hundred nineteen and one-half miles (DOOBY kilometers) from the restaraunt where you celebrated your most recent birthday ... may then exchange (at a near laundromat or jewelry store for ... with ... a long mustache. She will give you the complete manuscript of THE CARNIVOROUS CARNIVAL, along with a satchel contain ... -- under which no circumstances should you repair -- ... he last ... survivor of the Baudel ... a sketch ... of Chabo, the Wolf Baby, and Madame Lulu ... or at least, what is left o ... Remember, you are my last hope that the tales of the Baudelaire orphans can finally be told to the general public.

With all due respect, Lemony Snicket