A/N: (Updated April 16, 2022)

Disclaimer: Me no own ASOUE. Why you no believe me? You're impossible. -_-

==========
Chapter 11:
In A Quagmire
===========

I raced around another corner and booked it up to a ladder at the end of the tunnel. Finally. Veblen Hall. I thought I'd never get there. My lungs were burning and my sides were splitting from all that running, but that didn't stop me. I pushed through the pain and began my ascent. I yanked out the black cane that was jamming the trap door and pushed it open.

"So it's settled, then," a tall, dark-haired man was saying into a microphone. "We'll start with the––what the––?!"

I climbed out of the tunnels, thankful to be out, and looked around. A sea of faces gawked at me, appalled by my sudden intrusion. "Uhh," I started, not knowing what to say. "Hi. Don't mind me." I walked down the aisle to the double doors. That was awkward. I stepped outside and took a right down the sidewalk. If I remember correctly, a bus stop should be just down the road. I began running again, ducking and weaving between people. It took all of five minutes for a bus stop to come into view and, minding the traffic, I hurried across the street and up to the long gray bus parked next to it. Talk about killer timing.

"Where to, son?" the busdriver grunted as I flew on board.

"The Village of…Fowl Devotees," I panted, slouching over.

"Alright. Take your seat," the busdriver said, jerking his thumb toward the back of the bus.

I swung around the frontmost seat and sat down, watching life go on through the window. As the bus pulled away from the curb and merged smoothly into traffic, I leaned back and began to organize my thoughts. My mind was still in disarray from all the chaos. Let's see. Where to begin? Well, first of all, Duncan and Isadora were alive. That's fantastic. I was kept in the dark so long that I was beginning to lose hope on their well-being. Hopefully Count Olaf didn't hurt them. They could fill me in more when I got there.

Next was Jacques. Jacques was dead. I couldn't believe it. My mentor was gone. He seemed like a good guy, for the months or so that I knew him. I wish I could've gotten more time to get to know him more. There was still so much about V.F.D. that I didn't know, even after reading The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations, and only he knew the answers. Questions that would never be answered, unfortunately. Rest in peace, Mr. Snicket. Don't worry, I'll finish what you started.

On to the house fire. Dr. Montgomery's house had caught fire after I'd gone to get the paper. But how? I didn't leave anything dangerous plugged in. I wasn't careless. After some thought, it hit me: our enemies must've done it. They must've known Jacques was there, looking for the access codes to get inside the V.F.D. Headquarters to get the sugar bowl, and they must've known the answers were somewhere in Dr. Montgomery's library. That makes sense. To think that they were so close to me, a breath away from death, was insane. How I made it out of there in one piece baffles me. Seriously, I shouldn't be alive right now. That's two times I've cheated death. Unbelievable.

Now the Baudelaires. They were in the Village of Fowl Devotees with Duncan and Isadora. Better yet, they knew Duncan and Isadora. They were friends? Talk about luck. If they were friends with my siblings, then I should have no problem getting them to trust me. Duncan and Isadora are bound to go with me to get the sugar bowl––we Quagmires always stick together, no matter how much we fought. And if they were to go someplace, I had a feeling the Baudelaires would be right behind them. This was perfect. I could tackle all of my objectives in one stop. The only problem was time. I don't know how much I had left. I wish the bus would hurry. I had to save them from being wrongfully burned for something they didn't do. Yes, the Baudelaires are innocent. I believe them. They didn't kill Jacques. Count Olaf had to have. I could just feel it. She didn't––er, they didn't seem like the type of people to kill someone in cold blood. And Duncan and Isadora sure as hell didn't help them. I know my brother and sister. That's not like either one of them. If any one of us was likely to kill somebody, it was me.

The sun began to tickle the horizon when a tiny, dusty town came into view and the bus slowed to a stop in front of a sandy, dilapidated bus stop. This had to be it. I've never been to the town of V.F.D. before, but the busdriver knew what he was doing.

I think.

"Village of Fowl Devotees!" the busdriver hollered, looking up in his mirror.

Yep. This was it alright. It looked like an old town you'd find in a western. It was smaller than I thought. Way smaller. Did anybody even live here? And if they did, where? There were hardly any houses around. Well, whatever. There was no time to figure out the housing arrangements of the residents––Duncan, Isadora, and the Baudelaires needed my help. I flew off the bus with a quick "Thank you," and scampered through the sand and dead vegetation to the town square.

I stopped just inside of the town's perimeter and looked around, panting. The town was eerily quiet, and the sunset made it all the more chilling. Where was everybody? More importantly, where were Duncan and Isadora? And the Baudelaires?

"Duncan?" I hollered. "Isadora?"

"Hello?" a voice called from a short distance away.

That didn't sound like Duncan or Isadora. I looked over by the crow-shaped fountain and found two people tied up, one a beautiful, blonde-haired woman, the other a geeky man, both clad in motorcycle gear. Maybe they could help me. I jogged over to them.

"Oh, thank goodness," the man breathed, relieved. "I thought we'd never get out of this mess. Could you untie us, please?"

"Sure," I said, and began to work on the ropes.

"You have excellent timing, young man," the woman said, looking over her shoulder at me. "Might I ask who you are?"

"I'm Quigley. Quigley Quagmire," I replied.

I couldn't see the look on the woman's face, but the man appeared both shocked and skeptical. "You can't be," he said. "Quigley Quagmire died in a fire."

"Nope. I'm alive." The ropes fell to the ground and the woman turned to face me.

"Thank you, Quigley. I'm glad you're alright," she said, smiling. "How did you survive?"

"My mother put me in the tunnels under our house," I explained. "Something fell on the trap door and I couldn't get out. So I'm guessing that's why everybody thought I was dead."

"Well, we certainly did," the man said. "But we're glad you're okay. That must've been a very frightening dilemma."

Very frightening dilemma? They were volunteers! I felt the tension in my chest subside a bit. I was safe with these two. "It was," I agreed. "I didn't have a very fun day that day." I paused, hoping I made my allegiance clear. "What're your names?"

"I'm Jacquelyn Scieszka," the woman said, extending her hand.

"And I'm Larry, your waiter," the man said as I shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you both," I said, shaking Larry's hand.

"What brings you to the town of V.F.D., Quigley?" Jacquelyn asked.

"I'm looking for my siblings and the Baudelaires. Have you seen them?"

"I'm afraid you're too late," Jacquelyn said mournfully. "They left in a firetruck not too long ago. I'm not sure where they went, but they were headed west."

"Oh," I said, looking down. Great. I missed them. This day just keeps getting worse.

"But they're all alright if you're wondering," Larry piped up optimistically.

It didn't really help. I'll only know they're alright when I lay my eyes on them. "Thanks," I said, appreciating the gesture. Well, there's only one thing I could do now: get to V.F.D. Headquarters and get the sugar bowl. I looked off to the side and noticed a motorcycle with a sidecar. Hmm. "Do you think you guys could give me a ride to the Mortmain Mountains? I need to get the sugar bowl from the V.F.D. Headquarters. Jacques told me to."

Jacquelyn and Larry looked at each other and smiled. "We sure can," Jacquelyn said with a nod.

"Hey!" a raucous voice shouted from behind. We looked to find an army of people by what must've been the town hall. "There's one of the Baudelaires' accomplices! Get him!" The pitchforks and torches in their hands skyward, they marched over to where we were standing.

I gasped, my throat tightening. One of the Baudelaires' accomplices? I thought back to The Daily Punctilio article this morning. And since Duncan looked like me... Oh no.

"Did we also mention that the Baudelaires and your siblings are on the run, too?" Larry asked, beginning to sweat.

"I can see that," I squeaked.

"C'mon!" Jacquelyn said, leading us to the motorcycle. "Larry, let Quigley have the sidecar."

"Okeydokey," Larry whimpered with daring glance back at the mob.

Jacquelyn swung her leg over the seat and stomped the kickstarter as hard as she could. The bike roared to life with a loud, thundering vroom! and Larry jumped on behind her, holding on for dear life. I hopped in the sidecar and grabbed the sides, bracing for the worst. I'd never ridden on a motorcycle before, so I wasn't sure how things would go. Jacquelyn slid her goggles over her eyes, kicked it in gear, and twisted the throttle. We shot forward like a bullet, leaving the villagers in the dust, literally. A huge cloud curled up from the ground and blew into their faces, camouflaging our getaway. I squeezed my eyes shut, the wind a sharp metal comb in my hair. I wish I had a pair of goggles. Or sunglasses, even. Something to keep the wind and sand out of my eyes. This was unbearable. No. It was worse than unbearable. Was there even a word for 'worse than unbearable'? I sunk down as far as I could in the sidecar. Thankfully, the wind wasn't as bad. In fact, I could keep my eyes open, if only a little bit. This will have to do for now. It's either that or be burned at the stake, and I was positive that I didn't taste good cooked. That crowd looked bloodthirsty, and it wouldn't surprise me if they were cannibals.

"So how long before we get there?" I shouted over the rumbling of the engine.

"It's a bit of a drive!" Jacquelyn shouted back. I'm surprised she even heard me. "Maybe a half hour?"

"Okay!" Great. Another half hour in the most uncomfortable position I'd ever put my body in. This was going to be fun.