[Janitors 03] Curse of the Broomstaff (16 page)

Rico Chavez may have given his life by releasing the first wave of angry Toxites, but the Aurans had set a double trap!

The bathroom was swarming with deadly creatures, an endless stream entering through the hole in the dispenser. Spencer felt a Grime sear his bare foot with its venomous grip. He kicked it away and leapt up, drawing a mop from his belt.

Spencer spun the mop handle, sending the strings forward in a wide attack. He jumped toward the dispenser, feeling the creatures bite and tear. A group of Rubbishes swooped down, seizing the mop handle in their talons. The weapon was jerked from Spencer’s grasp, leaving him vulnerable against the onslaught.

In a flash, Daisy was at his side. The girl blocked with her dustpan shield, giving Spencer time to lunge forward and grab the dispenser cover. Instantly, his arms were crawling with Grimes. A Filth leapt onto his chest, sharp claws digging as it raked downward.

Spencer cried out, heaving the plastic cover of the dispenser and slamming it closed. He felt the latch click and knew that the dispenser could not be opened again without Alan’s key.

Spencer threw himself against the wall, shaking free of the Toxites that still clung to him. Closing the dispenser had stopped the flow of creatures, but the bathroom was still under attack by those that had escaped.

Walter slid forward, plunging a Grime to the wall with a splatter of slime. Following Daisy’s example, Spencer drew his dustpan. As he twisted the handle, the metal fanned out, forming a circular shield. And just in time! Two Toxites pinged off his defense and fell dazed to the floor.

Spencer’s razorblade rang out as it extended from the small handle. With one swing of the blade, both monsters were gone.

“I feel like a sitting duck!” Bernard shouted, still pinned to his waist in the bathroom floor. The garbologist was blocking with his shield, but the Filths were swarming him in a spiky mass of dusty quills.

“Bern!” Walter threw himself forward. He failed to dodge, and Rubbish talons rent his bald head, leaving streaks of red.

Spencer had never fought with such focus before. In the past, he had always struggled against the Toxite breath. But the vanilla air freshener made him more deadly than ever. He hacked and sliced with his razorblade, carving a path across the room.

Without a twinge of distraction in her fight, Daisy was also more deadly than Spencer had ever seen her. She took up a defensive position beside Bernard and Walter.

At least Penny was safe, completely submerged in the floor. Spencer scanned the tiles for her breathing tube. One of the Grimes seemed to notice it at the same moment. The little monster scuttled forward, gripped the cardboard tube, and slid its slimy body inside.

Spencer couldn’t see the other end of the tube, but he knew where it led. The thought was horrific! The Grime was slithering down into Penny’s open mouth! She would be helpless against the attack.

Spencer raced for the breathing tube, but Daisy beat him there. Throwing aside her shield and plunger, Daisy dove. The wind was knocked from her lungs as she struck the floor. Sliding forward, she grabbed the final inch of the Grime’s tail and jerked it out of the cardboard tube. Daisy flung the pale creature across the bathroom and turned back to Penny’s breathing tube.

“That was too close,” she muttered, reaching into her janitorial belt. There was a silvery flash as Daisy ripped off a piece of Glopified duct tape. “This should do the trick.” With a look of success on her face, Daisy placed the piece of tape securely over the top of Penny’s tube.

“What are you doing?” Spencer shouted.

“I’m trying to keep the Grimes out!” Daisy replied.

“That’s her breathing tube!” Spencer said. “You’re keeping the
air
out!”

Daisy’s expression changed to sudden sheepishness and she ripped away the Glopified duct tape. “Don’t tell her I did that, okay?”

But Spencer didn’t have time to answer. There were still too many Toxites, and the air freshener was beginning to fade.

Daisy started giggling uncontrollably. “This tube is snoring!” She had her head twisted sideways, listening into Penny’s breathing tube.

“No!” Spencer shouted, mentally pushing past the Toxite breath. He clipped out his can of air freshener and released a long hiss.

“Vac dust!” Walter cried above the chaos. “Everyone use vac dust!”

Slipping his razorblade into the belt pouch, Spencer drew a large fist of vacuum dust. Daisy, crouching low over Penny’s tube, did the same.

“Now!” Walter shouted. Spencer, Daisy, Bernard, Alan, and Walter simultaneously released their Palm Blasts of vacuum dust. For a moment, the bathroom was hazy with gritty dust. Then the sound of suction resonated as the Toxites were pulled down against the tile floor.

As the action lulled, Walter quickly dropped to Alan’s side, using Glopified Windex to turn the tiles to glass. With precise blows, he used his razorblade sword to chip away until Alan was free.

Seeing the warlock’s method, Spencer and Daisy instantly went to work on Bernard. The garbologist pulled free of the ground just as the vacuum suction on the Toxites subsided.

The angry creatures were up and shrieking once more. But the Rebels quickly ducked into one of the bathroom stalls as the relocated Toxites made their way out of the secret bathroom, seeking open air and the brain waves of a younger school.

The Rebels stepped out of the stall, amazed at how quiet the bathroom now seemed. Daisy drew the orange healing spray from her belt and sprayed the top of Walter’s bald head. The bloody scratches fizzed as the healing spray took effect.

“How do we get Penny out?” Spencer asked as everyone huddled around her cardboard breathing tube.

“Same way we got out,” Alan said, drawing his Windex. “We just have to be careful or we might accidentally turn her to glass.”

“I don’t think she’d like that,” Daisy said.

“Did somebody grab the map?” Bernard asked.

“It’s over here,” Spencer crossed to where Walter had dropped the roll when the Toxites attacked. “A highlighted route is printed on the paper towel.” Spencer picked it up.

Walter squinted at the item in Spencer’s hands. “Looks like a standard roll: eight-inch width, six hundred feet long.”

“Whoa,” Bernard said. “You’re telling me that we’ve got to follow a six-hundred-foot map?”

Spencer peeled up the end and noticed something else. “Double sided.” He held out the paper towel so everyone could see that the map was printed on both sides.

“We’d better rescue Penny so we can get started,” Daisy said. “This might take a while.”

There was a sudden snarl and the sound of rubble grinding underfoot. The Rebel team whirled around to face the crumpled brick wall, fearful that the relocated Toxites were returning. But it was worse than that. Much worse.

A massive Extension Filth blocked the exit to the hallway. In the dim light from the bathroom, Spencer could see the rider as the beast lumbered into the secret bathroom.

Leslie Sharmelle.

L
eslie Sharmelle looked haggard and unkempt. Her blonde hair, once so tidy, was frizzy and dirty. Seeing her in the vision with Mr. Clean had been one thing. But now she was here, still clad in her orange prison jumpsuit, a dangerous sneer on her face.

Daisy gasped as she recognized Mrs. Natcher’s substitute teacher. Leslie and Daisy had survived the Vortex together, struggling in a vent above the classroom. The memory was unpleasant, and Daisy slipped to the rear of the group.

And if the convict substitute weren’t bad enough, Spencer saw the improvements that Mr. Clean had made to Leslie’s beast.

The Extension Filth was outfitted for war in deadly looking armor. Strips of metal, carefully crafted from steel trash cans, covered the Filth’s most vulnerable areas. A galvanized helmet sat on the creature’s broad head, sharp spikes protruding from the mask like rhinoceros horns. Metal trash-can lids had been shaped to cover the Filth’s shoulders, the handles of the lids sharpened into deadly razor edges.

“Alan Zumbro.” Leslie’s voice was pinched with excitement at having him cornered at last.

Alan, upon hearing his name, stepped forward. The Filth barked, stringy spit swinging from its strong jaws as it sensed its prey. Leslie adjusted the dial on her battery pack, doing everything possible to hold back the Extension Filth.

“My Pluggers are swarming the hallways,” Leslie explained. “Things will turn ugly if you run.”

The Extension Filth leapt forward, Leslie reigning back as hard as she could. Spencer saw that the bludgeoning tail of the beast was also covered in durable metal, with steel spikes glinting like a flail.

“What happens if I don’t run?” Alan said.

“I’ve come to take you away,” Leslie answered. “Once we’re gone, your friends can go free.”

Alan cast a quick glance over his shoulder, eyes falling on Spencer. The look on his dad’s face caused Spencer’s throat to tighten. It was bravery, strong and undeniable. But the edges were tainted with fear and burden. It was the look of a troubled parent. And for the first time, Spencer knew that beneath it all his dad cared most about him.

Alan looked away, stepping even closer to the Extension Filth. He stared at Leslie and lifted his hands in defeat. “You will not harm them?” Alan gestured to his son and friends.

“You have my word.” Leslie’s voice was a whisper, her face shining with deranged excitement. Her task was coming to a close.

Spencer remembered how anxious Leslie was to prove her worth to Mr. Clean. And he remembered the warlock’s frightful orders. Alan was wanted dead or alive. It was a long way to Washington, DC. Too many chances for escape. Spencer could tell from the glint in Leslie’s eye—his dad would not make it to Mr. Clean in one piece.

Alan hung his head. “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Spencer burst to the front of the group. The sudden movement startled the Filth, and it roared at the Rebel team. “Don’t you want to know
why
we’re here?” Spencer challenged.

“Get back, Son,” Alan said. But Spencer had to shift the attention away from his dad.

“The whole point in capturing my dad was to stop us from finding this!” Spencer held up the paper-towel map. “But now you’re too late. We found the map to the Auran landfill! We’re going there next. And when we get there, the Aurans are going to help us!”

Revealing their whole plan probably wasn’t a good idea, but Spencer needed to make Leslie realize that the map was more important than his dad. He swallowed hard and decided to make a risky gamble.

“So, go ahead and take him.” Spencer pointed at his dad. “We don’t need him now that we’ve got this.” He waved the map roll in front of her.

In one swift movement, Leslie’s Extension Filth swept forward. The creature’s metal helmet bucked into Alan, sending him sprawling. Spencer ducked into the nearest bathroom stall. Daisy leapt in beside him, pulling the metal door closed.

The armored horns of the Extension Filth suddenly burst into the stall, puncturing the door like knives through paper. Daisy shrieked and jumped onto the toilet seat.

“Hold your breath!” Spencer said. Grabbing Daisy’s hand, he reached over and flushed the toilet.

He was ready for it this time. As the churning water receded, Spencer and Daisy were pulled into the sewage pipes. At the same moment, Leslie’s Extension Filth barreled into the stall, crushing the walls and shattering the ceramic toilet.

Spencer’s return journey through the plumbing was much like his first one, except that this time, Daisy streamed along behind him. They took corners at impossible speeds, borne along by a violent rush of cold water. It was a nightmare waterpark, and Spencer tried hard not to think of what had preceded him through the pipes.

Straining his eyes upward, Spencer saw the exit light. They’d have to act fast once they emerged. They would have the element of surprise, but not much else.

Spencer and Daisy burst into the air with an aquatic blast that rivaled the Bellagio fountains. Just as predicted, they were back in the first bathroom stall, close to the hallway exit.

Spencer checked the paper-towel map under his arm. It should have been a sopping mess, but the Glopified roll seemed unaffected by the water. Yanking Daisy to her feet, Spencer kicked open the stall door and staggered out.

Leslie and her Extension Filth were a safe distance away. The creature was still rooting around in the far stall, searching for the escapees. A second Plugger had arrived, riding an Extension Grime. He sat high in the saddle, cornering Alan, Walter, and Bernard against the far bathroom wall.

The Rebels were trapped, but Spencer was counting on the hope that Leslie wouldn’t leave until she got the papertowel map. That might give him and Daisy enough time to mount a rescue—if they didn’t get captured too.

Without a word, the two kids slipped out of the bathroom and raced down the hall. They were almost to the front doors when an Extension Rubbish swept around the corner.

Its beak and talons were covered in plates of metal armor, looking harder and deadlier than ever. The bird’s chest and head were also reinforced with scraps of metal trash can. The top sides of its black, leathery wings had been edged with sharpened steel.

Apparently, Mr. Clean’s improvements were not just for Leslie’s beast.

“Back!” Spencer cried, pulling Daisy away from the swooping monster. They sprinted around a corner, winding their way deeper into the large high school. Behind them, the Extension Rubbish cawed, probably calling other Pluggers toward the action.

Drawing brooms, the kids flew up a stairwell in one bound. No sooner had they reached the top than an Extension Grime scuttled across the ceiling and dropped to cut them off. The rider, strapped tightly to the floor-mat saddle, had a mop in his hands. But Spencer was fairly sure that the Grime would eat them before the Plugger even had a chance to use it.

The Grime’s armor was the strangest. Like the others, it was made of metal scraps. Strips of steel had been layered across the creature like dragon scales. They covered the Grime’s whole body, from head to tail. The armor design was flexible and clever, allowing the monster to move freely.