[Janitors 04] Strike of the Sweepers (7 page)

“How are we getting out of here?” Spencer whispered to his dad. With both Glopified squeegees in once place, there was no way to make a portal back to Welcher. Spencer knew from his time at New Forest Academy that the private school was sequestered several miles up a canyon road. Going on foot could take them all night.

“Walter had a backup plan in position,” Alan whispered. “In case things didn’t work out with . . .” He didn’t say Dez’s name, but Spencer saw his dad’s eyes flick over to the kid. It had been risky to use Dez in the first place. Spencer still hadn’t decided if the risk was worth it. Dez had double-crossed the BEM and helped the Rebels find Holga and the nail, but what was he really up to?

The old warlock unclipped a walkie-talkie radio from his belt. A slight trace of magic shimmered around the device as he whispered into it; the radio was clearly Glopified. Spencer wondered who Walter was contacting, until a familiar voice crackled through the speaker in response.

“Dr. Bernard Weizmann, at your service.”

Daisy shot Spencer an excited glance. They hadn’t seen the garbologist since their adventure into the Auran landfill two months ago. He was an odd man, with a tweed jacket, duct-tape necktie, and rubber boots. But, most important, he was a trusted Rebel, which was hard to come by these days.

“I’m in the parking lot,” Bernard’s voice came through the walkie-talkie. “But you might want to hurry. I think I’ve been detected.” There was a loud sound that caused the radio speaker to pop. “Scratch that,” Bernard said. “I
know
I’ve been detected!”

Walter clipped the walkie-talkie back onto his belt and took off at a run. The group didn’t pause again until they stood at the base of the Academy’s outer wall. Then, one by one, they unclipped their brooms and drifted to the top of the wall.

Balancing there, staring down into the parking lot with Daisy by his side, Spencer was suddenly reminded of his week at New Forest Academy. They had spied on Slick from this same vantage point. So much had happened since then, and Slick seemed weak compared to their more recent enemies.

Idling in the center of the parking lot was Bernard’s garbage truck. Technically, the truck was Rho’s, but Bernard had commandeered it when they left the landfill. Since then, he had been driving it around the country, doing whatever garbologists did. It was a sturdy vehicle, and the Aurans had reinforced it with many Glopified enhancements: puncture-proof tires, unbreakable glass, and an engine that could run forever without gasoline.

But even these extra security features didn’t stop Bernard’s garbage truck from getting surrounded. From high upon the brick wall, Spencer counted eight figures stationed around the vehicle. Several were hammering on the cab’s glass, and Spencer knew by the eerie, inhuman way that they moved—these were Sweepers.

“It’s Mr. Clean,” Spencer whispered. He couldn’t tell which of the Sweepers below was the warlock, but he knew. Garcia had said that Clean would be there any moment. But even more than that, Spencer’s Auran sense seemed to tell him that the BEM warlock was nearby.

“Yeah,” Dez said, squinting. “I think that’s him by the front of the truck. Hard to tell from up here.”

“You know Clean?” Spencer asked.

Dez shrugged. “He stops into the Academy sometimes. I’ve seen him around. He likes to yell at Garcia.”

“We’ll have to find another way out,” Walter muttered.

Spencer didn’t like what he was hearing, and Daisy voiced his concern. “What about Bernard?”

“He knew the risks,” said Walter. “The BEM will hold him alive for questioning. Let’s make for the trees.”

“Wait,” Dez said. “Why aren’t we going down there to fight those guys?”

Penny shook her head. “Eight Sweepers, one of them Mr. Clean. They’d tear us apart.”

“Not if I go down first,” Dez said.

Spencer couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Oh, please,” he said. “We’re supposed to believe that you’re some kind of amazing fighter now?”

“I’m not going to fight them,” Dez said. “I’m going to tell them that Garcia has you all captured inside.”

“But that’s not true,” Daisy pointed out.

“Duh,” said Dez. “It’s called deception.”

“That’s a pretty big word for you,” Spencer said.

Dez grinned, taking it as a compliment. “I learned it at the Academy.”

To Spencer’s horror, Walter began to nod. “It might actually work,” the warlock muttered.

“No way!” Spencer said. “He just admitted that he learned deception at the Academy! Remember, this is the same kid that double-crossed us. What if he does it again?”

“Would that make it a triple cross or a quadruple cross?” Daisy asked.

“Let me do this,” Dez said. “I’ll prove that I’m really on your side.”

“I don’t know,” Penny finally said. “I don’t like the idea of having him down there without any way of knowing what he’s telling Mr. Clean.”

Alan drew Garcia’s bronze hammer from a pouch on his janitorial belt. His eyes turned to Spencer. “Could you use Holga?” He offered the hammer to his son. “If Mr. Clean is down there, then you’ll be able to see through him, right?” Alan asked.

Spencer nodded, realizing what his dad was suggesting. “I’ll be watching you, Dez,” Spencer said. “If I even catch a whiff of betrayal, I’m breaking off the vision and we’re leaving you behind.”

“No whiff from me,” Dez answered. “I didn’t eat the refried beans at lunch.” Then he launched himself from the top of the wall, using a broom to drift down toward the Sweepers and the garbage truck.

When one of the Sweepers raised a cry of alarm, Spencer reached out and grabbed the handle of Holga, pulling the hammer from his dad’s grasp.

The night bleached, and when his vision returned, Spencer was seeing through Mr. Clean’s eyes. The large warlock turned away from the garbage truck, his gaze instantly finding Dez’s silhouette in the moonlight.

Dez touched down on the blacktop and released a hiss of vanilla air freshener to combat any Sweeper breath. Dez was really only susceptible to Rubbish breath, so Mr. Clean’s Grime-human mix wouldn’t be a problem. Still, Spencer was surprised by Dez’s precautions as Mr. Clean moved to greet him.

“What are you doing here, boy?” The warlock’s voice was rich and deep as the words rolled off his snakelike tongue.

Dez’s eyes were downcast and he didn’t look up when he spoke. “Garcia sent me to find you. Wants to know why you’re late.”

“He’s in a hurry to see me?” Mr. Clean asked.

Dez shrugged. “He’s got the Rebels cornered in the band room. He’s just waiting for you to tell him what to do.”

Mr. Clean began to pace slowly around Dez while the boy fidgeted under his gaze. “Fool, Garcia,” Clean said. “He has the Rebels in his clutches and he sends a child to find me.” He finished his circle and stopped in front of Dez. His voice was low and his words slow. “Are you
sure
the Rebels have been captured?”

As a silent observer, Spencer felt his heartbeat quicken. There was a lot of pressure on Dez, and his “deception” didn’t appear to be going smoothly.

“Well, yeah.” Dez was trying to sound nonchalant, but Spencer could hear the tension in his voice. “That’s why Garcia sent me out here.”

Mr. Clean paused for a moment. “Work with me honestly, and I can give you anything you like,” he said. “Lie to me, and I shall be very upset.” He bent down until his face was close to Dez’s. Even through the warlock’s eyes, Spencer could see the thick tongue curling out. “Does Garcia really have the Rebels?”

Dez stood petrified in the BEM warlock’s gaze. High upon the brick wall, Spencer held his breath, preparing to sever his connection with Holga and tell the Rebels to retreat.

Dez nodded, his mouth tight. Then, finally, he squeaked out a few words. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Mr. Clean straightened and took a deep breath. Dez relaxed a bit, the tension releasing from his shoulders. Then, without warning, Mr. Clean’s hand shot out, his sticky, Grimelike fingertips catching Dez by the chest and lifting his feet off the blacktop. “Then who’s on top of the Academy wall, boy?”

Spencer felt a pit open in his stomach.

“Chill, dude!” Dez said, his feet kicking the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“I know when someone’s lying to me!” Mr. Clean said. “Every time I mentioned the Rebels, your eyes went straight to the Academy wall!”

Mr. Clean dropped Dez roughly to the ground. He turned to the nearest Sweeper, a half-Rubbish woman. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. The rest of you come with me!”

The remaining Sweepers moved away from the garbage truck as Mr. Clean turned his gaze to the brick wall. Through his enhanced Sweeper eyesight, Spencer could see five indiscreet bumps across the top of the wall, silhouettes of the hiding Rebels. Then the tall warlock dropped to his hands and scuttled like a Grime across the blacktop.

Chapter 11

“All aboard!”

Spencer finally severed his link, dropping Holga into his dad’s waiting hands.

“We’ve got to move!” he said.

“We didn’t need your vision to tell us that,” Penny said, pointing. Spencer saw the Sweepers moving toward them at terrible speeds.

“What do we do?” Spencer asked.

“While you were watching Mr. Clean, Walter was talking to Bernard,” Alan said. “I think our garbologist has one more trick up his sleeve.”

Spencer looked to Walter, who was lowering the walkie-talkie, his face ashen.

“He said to wait here,” Walter muttered. “Said he’s going to drive by and pick us up.”

“Um,” Spencer said, “does he know we’re on top of the wall?”

Headlights flashed as Bernard spun the garbage truck around and accelerated directly toward the brick wall. Mr. Clean and the Sweepers hesitated as the diesel engine roared toward them.

“Is he going to ram the wall?” Daisy asked, bracing her hands against the edge of the brick. Spencer didn’t know what the garbologist was planning. The Auran truck seemed durable, but hitting a brick wall at forty-five miles per hour didn’t sound like a good idea.

At the last moment, the truck veered hard, Bernard cranking the steering wheel frantically. But the cumbersome, top-heavy vehicle was moving too fast. Spencer watched in absolute horror as the garbage truck tipped, rolled once, and came to rest on its side, with the wheels slammed up against the brick wall.

“Oh, garbage,” Penny muttered. “There goes our escape.”

Leaning over the edge of the wall, Spencer saw the Sweepers jeer at Bernard’s failed attempt. But before the enemy could resume their pursuit, the garbage truck’s engine revved.

Spencer couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He turned to Daisy; her wide eyes confirmed that he wasn’t going crazy.

Bernard was driving the garbage truck
up
the brick wall!

It shouldn’t have been possible, but somehow the Glopified tires were gripping the vertical face and the truck was chugging steadily upward. In a moment, Bernard had reached the top. Turning the truck sideways, he pulled up just below the Rebels. The passenger window rolled down, which seemed a tedious task in the face of the quickly approaching Sweepers.

Staring straight down through the window, Spencer saw Bernard Weizmann, wearing his goofy leather aviator cap and a huge grin. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, looking as comfortable as though he were on flat ground.

“All aboard!” the garbologist shouted.

One by one, the Rebels slipped over the edge of the wall and dropped through the open side window. When Spencer’s feet passed into the cab, he was surprised to feel a sudden shift in gravity. He dropped comfortably into the truck seat, and although he was sitting parallel to the earth, he felt perfectly upright.

“Welcome back to Big Bertha,” Bernard said. He reached out and ruffled Spencer’s white hair. “You don’t look a day older than the last time I saw you.”

Only Bernard could get away with a joke like that. But it was true. Spencer’s Auran powers prevented him from aging.

“I can’t tell if I’m up or down in here,” Daisy said.

“Down is always down inside Big Bertha,” answered Bernard.

Penny was the last Rebel to slip through the window. She let out a quick “whoa” as gravity rearranged itself. Then she rolled up the truck’s window and turned to the driver.

“Let’s roll, Bernie!”

Out of the dark night, a Rubbish Sweeper dove. He hit the reinforced windshield and clung there, the impact of his attack causing everyone in the cab to jump. Bernard stepped on the gas, and the huge truck lurched forward, the heavy tires passing over a Grime Sweeper clinging to the wall.

The Rubbish Sweeper was digging his talon fingernails against the glass, an angry sneer on his beaked face.

“The bugs here are terrible,” Bernard said. “I just can’t keep my windshield clean.” The garbologist pulled a lever, releasing a stream of windshield wiper fluid right into the Sweeper’s face. The hybrid man reeled back, and Bernard engaged the wipers. The wiper arms flicked across the glass, throwing the Sweeper aside.

“Much better,” Bernard said. “Now I can see where we’re going.”

But Spencer wasn’t sure if it was better. They were driving on the wall! It was incredibly disorienting.

“How do we get this thing back on the road?” Alan yelled.

Bernard shook his head. “I’m not really sure. This is my first experience with wall driving.”

“Wait a second,” Penny said. “You mean to say that you rolled this thing against the wall and you weren’t even sure it would work?”

“I had my suspicions,” Bernard answered, “but it wasn’t exactly written in the operator’s manual.”

“Never mind that!” Walter interrupted. “We’ve got to come off this wall and get out of here!”

“What happens if you stop the truck?” Alan asked.

“Besides letting the bad guys catch up?” Bernard said. “I don’t know.”

“I think you should try it,” Walter said.

Bernard spun the wheel, veering the truck downward until it was racing along the wall, just feet from the ground. Spencer again felt disoriented, and he had to remind himself that they were actually sideways.

“Everybody hang onto something,” Bernard said. Spencer grabbed the dashboard. Daisy grabbed his arm. Then Bernard slammed on the brakes, and the garbage truck came to a squealing halt on the wall.