[Janitors 01] Janitors (17 page)

Spencer and Daisy shared a glance. “We fight.”

“Good.” Walter smiled. “Let’s head back to the office. I need to get on with my search for the local BEM hideout.”

As they walked down the hallway, Spencer thought back to the time he was employed by Garth Hadley. With the janitors, he felt so positive and confident. Something he’d never felt with the BEM. Walter and Marv never asked Spencer to do things he didn’t want to do. They were teaching him, helping him to protect himself. It wasn’t something Spencer could explain with words. It was more of a feeling. A feeling of trust in the janitors.

“I can’t believe we saw so many Toxites today,” Daisy said, as they rounded a corner.

“That’s nothing,” said Marv. “The few schools that are staffed by the Rebel janitors are keeping the Toxite population very low. In schools where the BEM has taken over, the hallways are crawling with Toxites. Hundreds of them. Disgusts me. For more than three hundred years, the BEM has kept schools creature-free. Now they’re tracking down all Toxite-fighting janitors and firing them. What’s this world coming to?”

Hundreds of Toxites? Spencer couldn’t imagine what that would be like. What, Spencer wondered, could possibly have motivated the Bureau of Educational Maintenance to withdraw support from the schools? Why did they want the creatures to ruin education? A single Filth had sent him snoring. A single Grime had caused Daisy to take special interest in a door. What would happen to Welcher Elementary if the BEM fired Walter and Marv?

Spencer felt a wave of guilt wash over him.
He
had crippled the Rebel janitors by turning the hammer over to Garth Hadley. Now all the BEM needed was the nail. Hadley was powerful and determined. If he got it, all hope for the Rebel janitors would be shattered.

The seed of an idea rooted in Spencer’s mind. It grew as he and Daisy left the school and walked to the Gates home. It probably wasn’t a safe idea. It meant doing things he shouldn’t do. But it might make all the difference.

The idea was almost fully grown by the time Mr. Gates dropped Spencer at Hillside Estates. He had talked himself out of it two or three times, but it kept coming back. The need to help the janitors, to save education, outweighed all risks.

A quick search of the house assured Spencer that his mother wasn’t home yet. She was probably picking up his siblings from day care, so he’d have to be fast. It would be a short message; he already had the words planned out.

Spencer sat down at the computer and swallowed hard. The thought of disobeying his mother caused his heart to sink into his stomach, as if someone had suctioned it with a strong puff of vac dust. Spencer wiped his sweating palms on his pants and tried to overcome the guilty feeling that threatened to undermine his plan.

“For the good of education,” he whispered, almost inaudibly. “For the future.”

With a cautious glance over his shoulder, Spencer logged into his e-mail and typed as fast as he could.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: None

Dear Mr. Hadley,

I changed my mind. Daisy and I can get the nail from Walter Jamison tomorrow after school. People are suspicious of you at the school. Why don’t we meet at your local hideout to hand it over?

Let me know where and when.

Spencer

Chapter 29

“Let’s hunt.”

Friday dragged on and on. Even though it was the last Dez-free day of class, Spencer couldn’t wait for the bell to ring and their final training with the janitors to start. In his backpack, Spencer had the key to their success. It was the printed e-mail, including his original message and Garth Hadley’s response.

Spencer had kept it a secret from everyone, even Daisy. At the end of training with the janitors today, Spencer would present the information to Walter Jamison. Garth Hadley’s local hideout.

So much anticipation made it hard to sit still.

At last, the bell rang and he and Daisy rushed down to the janitors’ storage/office. Walter was seated at the desk, nervously rubbing his bald scalp. Marv was straightening a rack of spray bottles on the wall. The entrance to the Rebel Closet was hidden behind the sliding tower of boxes.

Greetings were short and terse, totally unlike the last few days. Something had happened—Spencer could almost taste it in the air.

“What’s up?” Spencer asked, trying to play it cool.

“Things are getting tight without Ninfa,” Walter said. “Supplies are running out. The BEM shut down a Rebel school in Colorado last night. Two of our janitors were fired. And Garth Hadley attacked Welcher Elementary at one o’clock this morning.”

“What?”

“We were here late, shampooing carpets and brainstorming possible BEM hideouts. Luckily we saw them coming,” Marv said. “I stalled them with vac dust while Walter got safely outside with the bronze nail.”

“It was too close,” Walter said.

“Any idea where they’re hiding?” Spencer asked. He couldn’t help it, but he was setting himself up to look like a real hero.

“None,” Walter said. “My lead last night was a dead end. Welcher’s not that big. I’ve checked everywhere. Garth Hadley must be using an alias.”

“We should get started,” Marv said. “Time’s running out. We need to get these kids prepared.”

“Right,” Walter agreed as Marv pulled aside the boxes to expose the Rebel Closet. Light glinted on the painted emblem of the janitor key ring as the warlock unlocked the door and strode into the secret closet.

The room looked undisturbed since the last time they entered. Without the hammer to drive the bronze nail, Walter was still unable to touch the swirling vat of Glop in the center of the room.

“Everyone should take a baggie of vacuum dust,” Walter said. From the table, Marv retrieved four Ziploc bags, each with a premeasured amount of gray dust.

“And everyone should take a Glopified weapon,” said Marv. “I’m taking a vacuum.” He wheeled an upright vacuum with a white cord out of the closet. Walter reached for a pushbroom.

Spencer and Daisy walked around the closet like kids in a candy shop. There were so many Glopified, Toxite-killing weapons that the kids had never seen before. Spencer wondered at each one, hoping he could have detention the following week to be trained with more.

“What’s this?” Daisy asked, picking up a bulging vacuum bag.

“Careful,” Walter warned. “That thing’s got more charge than any other object in this room. It really belongs in the dumpster.”

“Can’t you get some vac dust out of it?” Spencer asked. “It would probably be super powerful.”

“That bag’s been overcharged. It contains the power of nearly three hundred Toxites. For some unknown reason, it didn’t max out at fifty like all the other supplies. We call that bag the Vortex.”

“So it has different powers than vac dust?” Daisy asked, examining the thick, papery bag.

“The Vortex is unstable,” said Walter. “The dust inside is extremely powerful, but by the time the bag is pierced, it would be too late. Everything in this room would get sucked into the bag. BEM journals account for one other Vortex that was created somehow in the 1980s. When the bag was punctured, the suction was so strong that it pulled the paint off the walls and the carpet rolled up like a burrito. Only the person holding it didn’t get sucked inside. Think of it like a black hole inside a vacuum bag.”

Daisy set the Vortex gently back on the shelf where she’d gotten it, saying, “I don’t think I want to use that today.” Instead, Daisy chose a mop with a splintery wooden handle.

Spencer looked at the brooms hanging on the rack before him. Above each broom was a number written in marker.

“Is this the Toxite charge?” Spencer asked.

“Exactly,” Walter said, hefting his pushbroom. “This one has a 6T charge. That means I’ve crushed six Toxites with this pushbroom. Every Toxite I destroy with it will increase the speed and strength of my pushbroom until I max it out at fifty.”

“Is a pushbroom different from a normal broom?” Spencer asked.

“Quite opposites, actually,” Walter answered. “Instead of lifting me off the ground, my pushbroom will send the Toxites flying, if I hit them right.”

Daisy looked back at the spot where her mop had hung. It had a 1T charge. She quickly put it back on the rack in exchange for a 12T mop.

Spencer picked out a 4T broom with straw bristles. Checking his baggie of vac dust, he followed Daisy and Walter out of the Rebel Closet.

“We’ll stick to our usual daily maintenance routes,” Walter explained. “I’ll take Daisy with me to do the center hallway and the library. Marv, you take Spencer to the north hallway and the gym. Whoever finishes first will come back to work the entry hallway and cafeteria. But be careful—I think Principal Poach is still in the building.” Walter checked his watch. “Meet back here in forty-five minutes. Try to catch one of each kind—for instructional purposes.” He hefted his pushbroom like a rifle. “Let’s hunt.”

Spencer waved to Daisy and followed Marv down the hallway. The “out of order” sign was gone from the boys’ bathroom. The nail wasn’t in the wall anymore, so there was no reason to keep the bathroom closed. Marv plugged his vacuum into an outlet next to the door.

“We’ll start here,” Marv said. “I’ll kick open the door and you run inside. If there’s a Grime in there, it’ll probably bolt, so you’ve got to be fast.” Spencer nodded to show that he understood.

Marv fired up his vacuum and tilted it so he could race it forward on the back wheels like a chariot. Then he stepped forward and gave the bathroom door a big kick. The door swung inward, testing the strength of its hinges.

In a flash, Spencer was inside. Just as Marv had suspected, there was a Grime perched on the edge of the sink. Spencer swiped for the slimy creature with his broom. The pokey bristles raked down the Grime’s back and the salamander creature fell to the floor. Spencer wielded the broom around like an axe and came down for a fatal chop. His broom hit the floor hard.

But the Grime was gone.

The force of impact sent the broom rocketing to the ceiling, Spencer flying alongside. Below, the Grime slithered toward the floor drain. But escape was blocked, as Marv’s upright vacuum dropped over the drain, eagerly sucking.

Without stopping, the Grime redirected. Spencer was pinned to the ceiling, the broom still straining upward. Taking a deep breath, Spencer let go of the broom. Gravity returned instantly and he dropped heavily and crumpled to his knees on the tile.

“The toilet!” Marv shouted, pulling a suction hose from the side of his vacuum.

Spencer recovered and leapt for the open stall door. The Grime was climbing the side of the toilet bowl, bulbous fingertips like suction cups on the slick surface.

Spencer’s broom had dislodged from the bathroom ceiling and was floating down. But there was no time to go for it. Hastily, the boy opened his Ziploc bag and gathered a small fistful of charged vac dust.

The Grime was on the toilet seat when Spencer’s dust hit from behind. The suction sound filled the resonant bathroom and the force of the vac dust sucked the creature off the rim. The Grime fell with a splash into the water, the force pinning it below the surface.

“Grab it!” Marv shouted, leaving his vacuum and racing toward the stall.

Spencer stared into the toilet at the immobile Grime. Maybe with a long pair of gloves, Spencer would brave reaching into the toilet . . . but bare-handed?

The vacuum dust wouldn’t hold much longer. Spencer reached out his hand and then drew back, unable.

The Grime recovered in a moment and took one stroke toward the back of the toilet. The moment before it vanished down the hole, Marv’s bare hand plunged into the depths. He seized the Grime by the tail and flung it to the floor.

The Grime bounced and flopped like a fish on dry land. In a moment it was on its feet again, but a moment was all Marv needed. The vacuum wheels raced forward and the churning, spinning underpinnings of the vacuum closed down on the Grime.

There was a splattering of pale yellow slime. The vacuum sucked harder, seeming to choke on something. Then the machine swallowed and there was nothing.

Marv turned the vacuum off and silence filled the bathroom. Spencer slowly picked up his broom, aware that Marv was glaring at him.

“Why didn’t you grab it?” the big janitor asked as they exited the bathroom. “Almost got away.”

“I just . . . froze,” Spencer answered apologetically. “Maybe the Grime breath confused me.”
Or maybe,
thought Spencer,
I just couldn’t stick my hand into the toilet.

They walked silently into the hall. Marv unlocked a set of gym doors. “I set a full garbage bin in the corner of the gym after lunch. It should have attracted a Rubbish or two by now.”

And sure enough, two Rubbishes were frolicking in the trash. Their beaks snipped at each other playfully and they dove deeper into the bin to see who could surface with the greatest treasure.

Marv slowly worked his way to an outlet on the wall. He plugged in his vacuum but didn’t turn it on. Spencer crept up beside him.

“The best way,” Marv whispered, “is for you to stay up in the air. If you can make a ruckus above them, chances are they’ll come low where I can get them with my vacuum.”

“You ready?” Spencer asked. Marv nodded, his finger hovering above the vacuum’s
on
switch. Spencer moved away from the wall. He took two running steps in the direction of the garbage and dropped his broom bristles heavily to the floor.

Spencer lifted off at an angle, racing through the air. The Rubbishes spotted him, and the garbage-bin fun stopped immediately. Their vulture-like heads perked up and their leathery bat wings flexed.

Hanging tight to the broom handle, Spencer slammed into the wall above the garbage bin. The proximity made the Rubbishes skittish; one took off, flying low. Marv sprinted in that direction, vacuum wheels turning at maximum speed.

Spencer descended slowly along the wall. In a moment, the Rubbish hiding in the garbage would have a free path upward. Twisting his body around, Spencer tapped the broom bristles against the wall. The opposite reaction sent him gliding sideways across the gym. The Rubbish waited, ruffled its wings, and took flight as Spencer drifted away.