Chapter 5. The Hospital

Jason was having the most rotten week of his life.

First he had to do the diving board stunt, his most famous trick of all time. Then the school blew up. Then he was sent to an hospital with insane staff members who had swords and crossbows. Then a dragon had cut open his head.

It could have been better.

Merlin had taken him back to his own room, and that was where he was sitting. The room was plain: beige walls and a weathered, creaking ceiling, no windows, carpeted floor...it somewhat resembled a hospital room. After all, he was in a hospital...or at least that was what Merlin had said.

And that dude Merlin. Jason did not trust him. What kind of hospital staff had some kind of evil concoction that dissolved the skin? And why did he have a sword and a spear? Weren't hospitals supposed to be peaceful, well-organized places? This hospital was certainly not peaceful and well-organized.

Yeah, fairy tales. Totally believable. As if Merlin had thought they were morons.

Merlin had left his room with the door opened. Jason wondered what was going on in this place. Where were the other kids? He remembered being evacuated out the building...ambulances coming in...one of them were blue...then a man had talked to a teacher, taken him into the blue ambulance, and told him not to worry. Then he drugged Jason and Jason blacked out.

Criminals. They had kidnapped him! And Allison! They were being held hostage. In action books, captured kids would be traded for money. Like ransom. The thought made him shiver.

Did all the kids come here? Or was he the only kid, along with Allison?

Jason stood up, the bed springing lightly as he jumped to his feet. He could be a detective and try to detect what Merlin and Mulan were trying to do to him. Probably brainwash, though ransom was still a pretty big probability.

The door opened without a creak, and Jason was into the hallway. He knew that Allison's room was to his right...though he didn't know any other rooms. Would he dare to explore? Maybe venture a little further and pretend he was looking for the bathroom?

Jason closed the door behind him and strode down the hallway, trying to tiptoe. And failing miserably. He had never been good at tiptoeing.

The hallway was lined with doors, identical except for brass plates on top of each frame, silver numbers imbedded in each of them.

Jason continued down a hallway and made a right turn. The floor sloped slightly, and he realized that he was going down. That meant bad news, if he was thinking correctly. He usually did not think correctly...so that was probably good news.

The hallway ended in a dead end, so Jason doubled back, tapping on the walls. He wanted to locate something that would prove the hospital's true location--perhaps a secret map, or maybe plans for brainwashing innocent sixth graders.

He came to nothing, and exited the hallway.

The next turn came at the other end of the first hallway. This section was cleaner, smelling sharply of alcohol (the cleaning kind). There were two chandeliers over the entire hallway and spiraling blue lights fastened on the walls near the dimmer sections, so the lights combined into a weird, overlapping pattern. There were several doors here, each one locked firmly except for a few open ones. The open ones all had people working inside, typing at laptops, talking into phones.

None of them noticed Jason, but they looked weird to him. His eyes had to be misleading him. There were three hairy, smelly pigs in one of the offices, a man who looked like he was made of gingerbread in the one directly across the hall.

Mulan was in one of them. Jason backed away immediately, peeking into the office. The creepy ninja girl was typing into a silver laptop, Mushu the dragon snaking across her shoulders. She was glaring at the screen, pushing the keyboard furiously as she typed.

Mulan had made her office seem like a death trap. There were swords and daggers lined up against one wall, bows against the other, quivers of arrows in each corner. One bookshelf leaned against the far wall, all containing books on the art of war, fifty tips for sword fighting, a guide to archery. The posters were all signed in Chinese.

Though Jason was Chinese, he couldn't read the words. He had never taken Chinese in class in IBS, and the one time he did, he had seriously regretted it. The teacher was a big, chubby, Latino man who ate bananas all day and waved his hands around dramatically, knocking coffee off his desk. Jason hadn't even learned any Chinese for the whole year.

Mulan growled at the screen, then slammed the laptop shut. Her eyes were red. She turned.

Jason stifled a yelp and ran, hoping that Mulan did not see him. He could almost feel the arrow puncturing his back. He turned left and dashed down the hall, opening the door to his room, racing inside, and slamming it shut.

Jason panted against the door, leaning against the wood. He half expected Mulan to start banging on the door. She did not.

Jason gingerly fingered the place where Mushu had raked. He winced at the slightest touch. It didn't seem to be cut open, just bruised. But the dragon's claws had went through his head.

Jason stood up again, this time slowly. He pressed his ear against the door, listening for any signs of angry ninja girls. There were none.

He opened the door and found himself face to face with a silver arrow.

"Oh, gosh--"

Mulan was glaring daggers at him. Her right hand had pulled the bowstring taught, her left hand was gripping the supple wood of the bow so tightly her knuckles were white.

"No spying," she growled. "Didn't Merlin tell you that?"

"No!" Jason yelped, backing up. "He didn't!" This, at least, was true. Merlin had told him to stay in the room, but...yeah, Jason hadn't stayed in the room.

"Well," Jason revised, "he didn't tell me to not spy. He told me to--"

"Stay in your own room, huh? Then stay! Stay in your own room!"

"Yeah, I'll do that, okay? Calm down, lady!"

Mulan lowered her bow. "You stay in your room. It's not...safe...to go venturing about these hallways." She seemed reluctant to not impale her arrow into Jason's eyes. "First chance I get, Yang, this arrow's gonna get itself into your face."

"Yeah," Jason squeaked. "I get it."

"Good. You'd better." Mulan slammed the door and marched off.

Jason collapsed on the bed, shaken by the experience. Who used bows in these days? Why hadn't Mulan used a gun? But a bow and arrow was scarier. The arrow had been pointed directly at him. Staring into a barrel of a gun was like staring into death. Staring into an arrow was like staring into what was going to kill you. It was...something that was indescribable. Something terribly indescribable.  At least a bullet was faster than an arrow.

Jason remembered the pigs in the office, and the gingerbread-like man in the other. He remembered the weapons lined up in Mulan's office like a collection of deadly tools. 

Then he came to a greater problem: how was he going to get out of the so-called hospital? Both Mulan and Merlin had told him to stay in his room. If he went out, he would probably end up with another arrow in his face. And he didn't know his way around the building.

Jason cursed whoever had thrown the bomb at the IBS. He was at a dead end.

There was a knock on the door.

Jason hesitated. Whoever it was...it was probably Merlin or Mulan, ready to take revenge on him for exploring. But this was inevitable.

"Come in," he said, glancing futilely around the room for a weapon.

The door swung open. It was Merlin.

"Eureka!" Jason yelled. He blushed. Of all the words, why did he have to yell Eureka? That was a word for when something went right.

"Eureka?" Merlin frowned. "Is there something to celebrate, Yang?"

"Oh, uh...no. Bad habit, I'll fix it...sorry..."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Dinner's in five minutes. It is always at six-thirty, now that you are staying here. Hansel will lead you down to the mess hall."

"I'm staying here?!"

"Of course. As I said, you are not safe anywhere else."

"I'm not safe anywhere else. Send us back! Get us away from here! I'm not injured! I don't need to stay. Seriously, dude, don't brainwash us! And the school won't pay for ransom!"

"Ransom? Brainwash?"

"Uh-huh."

"Neither of those are what we are going to do with you. Dinner is in five minutes. Hansel will show you the way. Please do not mess with him."

Merlin made it sound like Hansel was some kind of sumo wrestler.

"Oh, boy," Jason muttered. "Hansel from those fairy tales? Hansel and Gretel?"

"Just Hansel. Gretel will be leading Allison."

"I'm sure you brainwashed them. Tell the truth!"

"Young man, that is the truth. Dinner is in five minutes."

Merlin left.

Jason bit his tongue, wondering if he should go down to dinner. Now that he thought of it, he was suddenly ravenous. The idea of a dinner was extremely tempting.

He paced around the room, counting his steps. If Hansel got here and the total number of steps was an odd number, he would not go to dinner. If it was even, he would go. Secretly, Jason hoped for it to be even.

One-hundred-seven...one-hundred-eight...

There was a knock on the door and Jason turned, walking slowly.

One-hundred-nine...one-hundred-ten...one-hundred-eleven...one-hundred-twelve.

He opened the door. One-hundred-fourteen.

Yes, he thought. I did it! Dinner for me!

Then he saw Hansel and everything changed.

Hansel was buff, beefy, and had a permanent scowl etched into his face. He had dark brown hair cut short, a ripped pair of jeans, and a thin black T-shirt with a flaming skull on the front. He wore a pair of army boots, and he had dark sunglasses on, obscuring the sight of his eyes. As he leaned against the doorway, his biceps flexed and fully convinced Jason that this guy was not someone who you wanted to mess with.

"So you're that boy," Hansel said. He sounded bored. "Merlin sent me for dinner. Get your butt down to the mess hall."

Hansel was completely covering the doorway. Though he looked like one of those men who worked out at a gym, Jason could sense that he was much more dangerous. Hansel was like a bomb. One touch and he would explode.

"Uh...yeah. Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

Hansel scowled at him. "Don't play your little jokes with me, boy." He had a slight lilt to his voice, as if he was a gangster learning to use gangster speak. "Get yourself down there now. I ain't like to repeat myself."

"Okay," Jason said timidly, edging his way out under Hansel's armpit. He tried not to wrinkle his nose at the stench.

"Get used to the pits," Hansel snapped. "Everyone knows they smell. How're ya gonna fight the Wolf if you're scared of the stink?"

"Uh, I never said anything about fighting."

Hansel snorted. "Yeah, sure, as if you don't know about the prophecy. Whatev, get yourself to the mess hall. There's definitely gonna be some kind of welcome speech." He glared at Jason.

"What prophecy?"

Hansel gritted his teeth. Then he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, "I can't believe he's the one..."

"One?"

"Get lost!" Hansel snarled. "Seriously!"

"Aren't you supposed to lead me?"

"Then I'll lead you." Hansel got off the doorway and started down the hall. He turned right and vanished up a set of stairs Jason swore he had not seen the first time he had explored the hospital.

What other choice was there? Wander back the other way and be shot by Mulan's arrows. Or follow Hansel, the beefy guy with stinky armpits. Not the best choices in the world.

Cursing his luck, Jason followed his 'guide' up the stairs. They wound around a large pole, like the one in IBS; greased, smeared with whatever was on the hands of dirty people. He didn't dare think kids. He and Allison were probably the only children here.

The second floor was much nicer than the first. It reminded Jason of some fancy resturant he had seen in a picture. Chandeliers hung from the roof. The floor was carpeted with a shade of light green. The walls were the same shade of green, glazed for further brightness. The roof was painted sky-blue, and, with the chandeliers shining onto the blue, the whole scene represented one of summer: sun shining, fresh grass growing.

There were two bathrooms: one down the hall and one right next to them. Jason saw, with a strange curiosity, the three pigs in the boy's bathroom again, grumbling and oinking for a spot at one of the mirrors.

Hansel directed him towards a left turn. "Second door on your right. Find a seat where you can see the stage." Then he turned into the bathroom and left.

Second door on the right. Jason turned left and started counting. He only saw one, no other doors along the wall. He patrolled the right wall twice, hoping to see a second door along the light green. There was none.

So maybe Hansel had said it wrong. Maybe it was the first door on the right.

Jason propped open the first door and took a look around. It was empty. There was a huge room--huge. Three basketball courts and an olympic-sized swimming pool would have easily fit in there with room to spare for several trucks. Jason was awestruck by the size.

A rack of swords lined the wall to his left, all sizes and shapes. There was a stack of daggers in the far corner, several archery targets along the back wall, red lines drawn on the ground and the number of meters away from the targets. Bows and different quivers of arrows hung next to the targets.

On the right-hand wall, several mangled punching bags were piled on the ground, as if nobody had had the time to clean them up. Suits of armor were neatly arranged beside the punching bags, as well as much more equipment: sheaths for swords and daggers, sheilds, leather satchels like the one Merlin had. Several canisters of the gas Jason had used to dissolve some of his skin was stacked on a wooden shelf. Crossbows lay under the shelf in a disorderly pile.

Spiked balls leaned right next to the sword wall, maces and spears directly next to the balls. There were ropes, cords, and chains hanging from a rack behind the targets. In the center of the room, a large red circle was drawn, with several benches right next to the edge. Leather gloves hung from a row of hooks right next to the Skin-Dissolving Gases. Throwing stars and spikes were scattered across the right-hand side of the wall, directly under the punching bags.

There was a door on the left hand side of the wall, behind the sword rack. The label over the doorway read: Caution: Catapults and Cannons Inside. Please handle with care.

Jason quickly backed out of the room, shutting the door firmly. Looking up, he saw the label of Training and Weapons Room.

Training? Training as in throwing ninja stars at the punching bags and hacking at each other with real swords? What kind of hospital was this?

A hand grabbed his shoulder, and Jason yelped. He realized it was just Hansel.

"What are you doing?" The man demanded. "I said second door on the right."

"There is no second door on the right!" Jason protested.

Hansel scowled at him and waved his hand. There was a shimmer and a door painted vividly with a brighter shade of green appeared.

Jason stared at it in disbelief. "How-"

"Get going," Hansel snapped. "Into the mess hall."

Jason opened the door and peeked inside. "Whoa. Hansel--"

The stinky-armpit guy had already vanished.

The room was about a third of the size of the room Jason had accidently stumbled into. Ivory tables filled the room, placed horizantally against the walls. Chandeliers hung from the rooftop, illuminating a cheerful scene unmatched by even the IBS cafeteria. The walls were painted orange, and silver banners hung from the beams: Bon Appetite!

The sound of chatter reached Jason's ears easily, and the clink of silverware chimed in. And the smell. The aroma of the food was plain tantalizing. It was torture having to stand there while smelling, seeing, and hearing everything going on in front of him.

Jason started into the mess hall, salivating at the smell of food.

Then he saw Allison and the buff guy.