two long fingernailed hands she reached down to her stiletto heels. 'This in footwear isn't just useful for making me look glamorous and feminine,' she said, removing the shoes and pointing them at the children. 'These stilettos are perfect for slitting children's throats. Two bratty little Baudelaires will be killed while trying to escape from justice, leaving one bratty little Baudelaire to give us the fortune.'
'You'll never get your hands on our fortune,' Klaus said, 'or your shoes on our throats.'
'We'll see,' Esmé said, and swung her left shoe at Klaus as if it were a sword. Klaus ducked quickly and felt the
'She's trying to kill us!' Klaus shouted to the audience. 'Can't you see? These are the real murderers!'
'No one will ever believe you,' Esmé said in a sinister whisper, and swung her right shoe at Sunny, who moved away just in time.
'I don't believe you!' shouted Hal. 'My eyesight might not be what it used to be, but I can see your phony medical coat.'
'I don't believe you, either!' a nurse cried. 'I can see that rusty knife!'
Esmé swung both shoes at the same time, but they collided in midair instead of hitting the children. 'Why don't you surrender?' she hissed. 'We've finally trapped you, just as you trapped Olaf all those other times.'
'Now you know what it feels like to be a villain,' the bald man chuckled. 'Move closer, everyone! Mattathias told me that whoever grabs them first gets to choose where to go for dinner tonight!'
'Is that so?' the hook-handed man asked. 'Well, I'm in the mood for pizza.' He swung a rubber-gloved hook at Klaus, who fell back against the gurney, rolling it out of the evil man's reach.
'I feel more like Chinese food,' one of the powder-faced women said. 'Let's go to that place where we celebrated the Quagmire kidnapping.'
'I want to go to Cafe Salmonella,' Esmé snarled, disentangling her shoes.
Klaus pushed against the gurney again, wheeling it in the other direction as the circle of associates closed in. He held the rusty knife up for protection, but the middle Baudelaire did not think he could use a weapon, even on people as wicked as these. If Count Olaf had been trapped, he would not have hesitated to swing the rusty blade at the people who were surrounding him, but despite what the bald man had said, Klaus did not feel like a villain. He felt like someone who needed to escape, and as he pushed against the gurney again, he knew how he was going to do it.
'Get back!' Klaus cried. 'This knife is very sharp!'
'You can't kill all of us,' the hook-handed man replied. 'In fact, I doubt you have the courage to kill anyone.'
'It doesn't take courage to kill someone,' Klaus said. 'It takes a severe lack of moral stamina.'
At the mention of the phrase 'severe lack of moral stamina,' which here means 'cruel selfishness combined with a love of violence,' Olaf's associates laughed in delight. 'Your fancy words won't save you now, you twerp,' Esmé said.
'That's true,' Klaus admitted. 'What will save me now is a bed on wheels used to transport hospital patients.'
Without another word, Klaus tossed the rusty knife to the floor, startling Olaf's associates into stepping back. The circle of people with a severe lack of moral stamina was spread out a little more, just for a moment, but a moment was all the Baudelaires needed. Klaus jumped onto the gurney, which began to roll quickly toward the square metal door they had come in. A cry rose from the audience as the Baudelaires sped past Olaf's associates.
'Get them!' the hook-handed man cried. 'They're getting away!'
'They won't get away from me!' Hal promised, and grabbed the gurney just before it reached the door. The gurney slowed to a halt, and for a second Sunny found herself face-to-face with the old man. Butterflies fluttered in the youngest Baudelaire's stomach as he glared at her from behind his tiny glasses. Unlike Olaf's associates, Hal was not an evil person, of course. He was merely someone who loved the Library of Records and was trying to capture the people he believed had set it on fire, and it pained Sunny to see that he thought she was an evil criminal, instead of an unlucky infant. But she knew she did not have time to explain to Hal what had really happened. She scarcely had time to say a single word, and yet that is precisely what the youngest Baudelaire did.
'Sorry,' Sunny said to Hal, and gave him a small smile. Then she opened her mouth a little wider, and bit Hal's hand as gently as she could, so that he would let go of the gurney without getting hurt.
'Ow!' Hal said, and let go. 'The baby bit me!' he shouted to the crowd.
'Are you hurt?' a nurse asked.
'No,' Hal replied, 'but I let go of the gurney. They're rolling out the door!'
The Baudelaires rolled out the door, with Violet's eyes flickering open, Klaus steering the gurney, and Sunny hanging on for dear life. The children rolled down the hallways of the Surgical Ward, dodging around surprised doctors and other medical professionals.
'Attention!' announced Mattathias's voice over the intercom. 'This is Mattathias, the Head of Human Resources! The Baudelaire murderers and arsonists are escaping on a gurney! Capture them at once! Also, the fire is spreading throughout the hospital! You might want to evacuate!'
'Noriz!' Sunny shouted.
'I'm going as fast as I can!' Klaus cried, dangling his legs over the side of the gurney to scoot it along. 'Violet, wake up, please! You can help push!'
'I'm try ... ing. . . .' Violet muttered, squinting around her. The anesthesia made everything seem faint and foggy, and it was almost impossible for her to speak, let alone move.
'Door!' Sunny shrieked, pointing to the door that led out of the Surgical Ward. Klaus steered the gurney in that direction and rode past Olaf's fat associate who looked like neither a man nor a woman, who was still dressed as a spurious guard. With a terrible roar, it began to give chase, walking in huge, lumbering steps, as the Baudelaires raced toward a small group of Volunteers Fighting Disease. The bearded volunteer, who was playing some very familiar chords on his guitar, looked up to see the gurney wheel past them.
'Those must be those murderers Mattathias was talking about!' he said. 'Come on, everyone, let's help that guard capture them!'
'Sounds good to me,' another volunteer agreed. 'I'm a bit tired of singing that song, if you want to know the truth.'
Klaus steered the gurney around a corner, as the volunteers joined the overweight associate in pursuit. 'Wake up,' he begged Violet, who was looking around her in a confused way. 'Please, Violet!'
'Stairs!' Sunny said, pointing to a staircase. Klaus turned the gurney in the direction his sister indicated, and the children began to roll down the stairs, bouncing up and down with each step. It was a fast, slippery ride that reminded the children of sliding down the bannisters at 667 Dark Avenue, or colliding with Mr. Poe's automobile when they were living with Uncle Monty. At a curve in the staircase, Klaus scraped his shoes against the floor to stop the gurney, and then leaned over to look at one of the hospital's confusing maps.
'I'm trying to figure out if we should go through that door,' he said, pointing at a door marked 'Ward for People with Nasty Rashes,' 'or continue down the staircase.'
'Dleen!' Sunny cried, which meant 'We can't continue down the staircase--look!'
Klaus looked, and even Violet managed to focus enough to look down where Sunny was pointing. Down the staircase, just past the next landing, was a flickering, orange glow, as if the sun was rising out of the hospital basement, and a few wisps of dark black smoke were curling up the staircase like the tentacles of some ghostly animal. It was an eerie sight that had haunted the Baudelaires in their dreams, ever since that fateful day at the beach when all their trouble began. For a moment, the three children were unable to do anything but stare down at the orange glow and the tentacles of smoke, and think about all they had lost because of what they were looking at.
'Fire,' Violet said faintly.
'Yes,' Klaus said. 'It's spreading up this staircase. We've got to turn and go back upstairs.'
From upstairs, the Baudelaires listened to the associate roar again, and heard the bearded volunteer reply.
'We'll help you capture them,' he said. 'Lead the way, sir--or is it madam? I can't tell.'
