Read Strike of the Sweepers Page 12


  “What do you want from me?” Spencer finally asked, taking hold of the cage bars once more.

  Mr. Clean shrugged. “I already asked. Where is the Manualis Custodem. We had spies around the old professor,” he said. “We know that the Aurans gave it to you.”

  “I don’t know where it is,” Spencer lied.

  Mr. Clean took a deep breath. “Very well,” he said, rising abruptly to his feet. “You are free to go.”

  Spencer’s hands slipped from the bars. “What?”

  “You may leave,” said Mr. Clean. “If you don’t know where the book is, then you are no good to me.”

  The warlock stepped around his desk and approached Spencer’s cage. The boy shrank back as Mr. Clean reached his sticky hand through the bars and took hold of the rake handle at the center of the cage.

  “The rake can only be opened by an outside hand,” Mr. Clean explained. He twisted the wooden handle, and the metal cage instantly reverted back to an ordinary-looking rake. Spencer stumbled, suddenly free of his imprisonment.

  Mr. Clean shoved the rake into Spencer’s hands. “Go,” he said.

  “I’m not leaving without my friends,” Spencer said.

  “Brave words,” said Mr. Clean. “You may take the girl and the Sweeper boy. I assume you had an escape plan? A squeegee, perhaps?”

  Spencer swallowed hard. Mr. Clean was going to let him walk out of this? “What’s the trick?”

  “Trick?” The Sweeper warlock shrugged. “No tricks. Just a promise.” Spencer waited for him to explain. “I will keep the other Rebels here for questioning,” Mr. Clean said. “If you leave and never come back, they will live on. If you, or any of your friends, attempt a rescue . . .” His lips curled in a sneer. “I will kill them all.”

  Spencer’s heart was racing. This didn’t feel right. Mr. Clean didn’t leave survivors. Now he was allowing Spencer to leave? What was his game?

  “I don’t trust you,” Spencer said.

  “I don’t care,” answered the big Sweeper. “I’m offering you a way out. Don’t be a hero. Get your friends and go.”

  Spencer backed up, hefting the rake in his hands. He wanted to cage Mr. Clean, grab Belzora, and rip out the nail. It was futile, of course. The Sweepers would strike him down before he could take two steps.

  The Filth Sweepers opened the door, and Spencer moved back into the hallway, retreating silently back to the elevator. The chalk cloud had settled inside, coating everything in a white sheet.

  Spencer felt a knot of emotion in his throat. Bernard, Penny, Walter, his dad. Was there nothing he could do for them? He dropped to one knee at his dad’s side.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” he whispered. Spencer’s hand found the squeegee that Agnes had given Alan. The one that would open the portal back to Earl Dodge.

  Spencer strapped on his janitorial belt, snapped the rake into a vacant clip, and drew out his bottle of Windex. In a blue flash, the back wall of the elevator had turned to glass. He brought the squeegee around and dragged it down the transparent surface.

  The portal shimmered into view. On the other side, Earl jumped to his feet, cowboy hat tipping back in surprise. Spencer grabbed Daisy’s legs and dragged her through.

  “Boy, howdy!” Earl cried. “She don’t look too good!”

  But Spencer barely heard him. He reached through the portal, seized Dez by the ankle, and heaved the big kid through to Earl’s side.

  He stood there, petrified by the sight of his dad and other friends, paralyzed and probably wondering what was happening. Then Mr. Clean’s voice came through the intercom once more.

  “Remember our agreement, Spencer.”

  He thought about jumping through and grabbing his dad. Maybe he could get one of the adults through the portal before . . .

  The Filth Sweeper stepped forward, lips peeled back into a hideous snarl. His clawed hand swung and the glass shattered, closing the portal to a place that Spencer could never go again.

  Chapter 25

  “I can work with that.”

  It was dawn by the time Daisy and Dez revived from the paralyzing effects of the chalkboard eraser. Spencer had slept only the littlest bit when Earl was standing guard. Spencer had thought up a dozen rescue plans, but none of them ended well in his mind. He wasn’t giving up on the others, but right now, something else was of greater importance.

  The Manualis Custodem had to be protected. Mr. Clean would send people to look for it. And the first spot they’d check would be . . .

  “Daisy and I have to go back to Welcher,” Spencer announced when everyone was sitting upright.

  Dez sighed heavily. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

  Spencer looked at him curiously. “Do what?”

  “I’ll fly you chumps back to Welcher,” he said, flexing his muscles.

  “Welcher’s in Idaho,” Daisy said. “We’re in Colorado.”

  “You don’t think I can do it?” Dez asked, his pride insulted.

  “Do you know how many miles that is?” Spencer asked.

  “Does it matter?” Dez said. “I’ve got these babies.” He unfurled his big wings with such force that the rush of air caused Earl’s cowboy hat to blow back.

  “Now, it’s fine and dandy if y’all want to go flying,” said Earl. “But driving makes a bit more sense to me.” He reached in the pocket of his pajamas and pulled out the key to Bernard’s garbage truck. Spencer recognized it by the mess of key chains that the garbologist had collected from his dumpster dives: a lucky rabbit’s foot, a couple of smashed tourist pennies, a stress ball, a tiny flip-flop sandal, and something that looked like a turtle shell.

  “How did you get that?” Spencer asked. Bernard was very protective of his garbage truck.

  “That odd fellow handed me the key just before he stepped through the portal,” said Earl. “Told me that if things went south, I should drive the truck down to Texas and leave her abandoned.”

  Spencer grinned. “We’re not taking her down to Texas.” He held out his hand, beckoning for the key.

  Earl laughed, his handlebar mustache curling up. “I ain’t letting you drive, kid,” he said. “How old are you, anyway?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Spencer said. “That’s a Glopified garbage truck. It was made to be driven by kids.” Technically, the Aurans who created and drove the garbage trucks weren’t kids. They were over three hundred years old. But they looked like kids, and so Spencer assumed there were Glopified safeguards that would allow him to drive the truck without trouble.

  Earl just tilted his head, an expression of fatherly worry on his face. “I’ll see you back to Welcher myself. Least I can do after what you young’uns have been through.”

  Spencer shook his head. Earl couldn’t go to Welcher. They had worked too hard to keep the Manualis Custodem a secret, even from Penny and Bernard. It wouldn’t be safe to let Earl find out about it.

  “Thanks, but we have to go alone,” Spencer said to Earl. “There’s something in Welcher that we have to take care of. Daisy and I will send word as soon as we get something figured out. Until then, you and Dez should stay here.”

  Dez reached out and smacked Spencer on the back of the head. It hurt a bit more than usual because of his hardened fingers. “You’re not leaving me behind, Doofus. You need me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Spencer said. “There’s something in Welcher you shouldn’t know about. Something that could put you in a lot of danger.”

  “I don’t care,” said Dez. “I don’t know why you’re being all secretive. But if you leave me behind, I’ll go straight to the BEM!”

  Why did he always do that? Spencer gritted his teeth in utter frustration. The worst part was that he totally believed Dez’s threat. Spencer’s anger built until he couldn’t control it anymore.

  “Fine, Dez!” he yelled. “Have it your way. But it’s not my fault if you end the world!”

  Earl was still standing there, the key to Big Bertha dangling in his hand. Spencer took a
deep, calming breath, ran a hand through his white hair, and turned to the janitor cowboy.

  “You really shouldn’t come,” Spencer said. “You’ve probably got a wife and kids, and they need you to come home.” He was thinking of his own dad’s mysterious two-year disappearance. He wouldn’t bring that on another family.

  “Actually,” Earl said, “I’m single.” He tipped his hat to no one in particular.

  “Don’t you have a dog?” Daisy asked.

  “Nope.”

  “What kind of cowboy doesn’t have a dog?” Spencer asked.

  “What about a cat?” Daisy asked.

  “Nope,” Earl said again. “Just a goldfish.”

  “Okay. I can work with that,” Spencer muttered. “Think of your goldfish, Earl. Who’s going to give her little flakes of food if you die?”

  “Actually,” said Earl, “I’ve been trying to get her to go belly-up for about a month now. Them little flakes are getting expensive.”

  Spencer was getting frustrated. “I’m not letting you come with us!” he insisted. There was too much at stake with the Manualis Custodem.

  “Then I guess you’ll have to lock me up,” Earl said with a big grin.

  Spencer shrugged. “You asked for it.” His hand flashed to his janitorial belt, drawing the Glopified rake that had held him prisoner only hours ago. Mimicking the Sweeper’s actions, Spencer thrust the rake, handle first, right at Earl’s feet.

  The swift bars closed around him, causing Earl to jolt in surprise. The key to Big Bertha flung from his grasp, landing with a clink just out of reach.

  “Whoa!” Dez said, clapping his hands in approval. “Where’d you get that?”

  “Picked it up in the BEM lab,” Spencer said as he retrieved Big Bertha’s key chain from the floor.

  “Hey, partner!” Earl said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. He grabbed the bars and shook them, rattling his cage hopelessly. “Y’all come and let me out, now.”

  Daisy stepped forward to help him, but Spencer grabbed her elbow. “Come on, Daisy,” he said, drawing her toward the door of the janitorial closet. “We’ve got to get on the road.”

  “Hey!” Earl shouted. Now there was panic in his voice. “What about me? This is treason!”

  “It’s for the best,” Spencer said, pausing at the doorway. “School will start in a few hours. Somebody will find you. All they have to do is reach through the bars and twist the rake handle.”

  “I can’t let them find me like this!” Earl said. “I’m in my pajamas!”

  Spencer nodded. “You look fine.”

  Then the three kids were moving down the hallway of Viewmont Elementary School. The dawn light hadn’t spread enough to illuminate the building, but Spencer could see a glow to the east.

  “Why are we going back to Welcher?” Daisy finally asked.

  Spencer glanced at Dez. He didn’t want to say it, but the Sweeper kid was bound to find out eventually. “Mr. Clean is looking for the Manualis Custodem. We’ve got to protect it.”

  “You talked to Mr. Clean?” Daisy asked. “How’d you get away?”

  Spencer felt uncomfortable talking about it. “He let me go.”

  “I knew you couldn’t fight your way out of there,” Dez said.

  “He told me that I was free to take you guys with me,” Spencer explained. “As long as we don’t try to rescue the others, he won’t hurt them.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Daisy asked.

  “Rescue the others,” answered Spencer. “After we get back to Welcher and hide the Manualis.”

  “You keep saying that fancy word,” Dez grumbled. “Are you trying to sound smart? ’Cause you just sound like a nerd.”

  “The Manualis Custodem is a really important book,” Daisy said. “And it sounds like Mr. Clean will do anything to get it.”

  “Like letting Spencer go?” Dez said.

  Spencer stopped in the middle of the hallway. His heart was pounding, and he knew that Dez could be right for once.

  “That’s what I would do,” Dez went on. “Capture you, tell you what I want, and then let you go. You’ll run straight to it.”

  Spencer pressed his hands to his face, angry and embarrassed that he’d missed the obvious. And worse, that Dez had pointed it out.

  “This doesn’t change anything,” Spencer said. “The Manualis Custodem is sitting out in the open. We’ll just have to make sure that nobody follows us.”

  “That might be kind of tricky,” Daisy said. She pointed out the window to the parking lot.

  Big Bertha, the garbage truck, was parked exactly where Bernard had left it. But surrounding the big vehicle were half a dozen Pluggers.

  Chapter 26

  “Piece of cake.”

  There were two of each breed of Extension Toxite, with riders kicked back in the saddles, as though they’d been waiting for quite some time.

  “They must have come down from New Forest Academy,” Spencer said.

  “We really could have used Earl’s help about now,” Daisy pointed out. “Three of us and six of them?”

  “I think I count for at least two people,” Dez said. “I’ll swoop in there, plunge the truck, fly it back over here, you guys jump in, and I’ll drive us out of here.”

  “You are not driving Big Bertha!” Spencer said. To emphasize his point, he jingled the key chain.

  “Why do you always get to do the cool stuff?” Dez complained.

  “Because,” Spencer said, “I’m responsible and you’re not.”

  “And Spencer has white hair,” Daisy said.

  The boys looked at her. “What does that have to do with anything?” Spencer asked.

  Daisy shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought we were talking about your qualities.”

  Spencer turned back to Dez. “Do you really think you can plunge Big Bertha without getting caught?”

  “Piece of cake.” Dez reached over and took a plunger from Spencer’s belt. Then he sprinted down the hallway.

  “How can Dez think about cake at a time like this?” Daisy asked.

  She and Spencer moved to the nearest doors and waited for whatever trick Dez might have up his sleeve. It occurred to Spencer that the bully might take off and leave them behind. It was an uncomfortable thought, especially now that Dez knew about the Manualis Custodem.

  But the next moment proved Spencer wrong. Dez came soaring off the roof of Viewmont Elementary School, a streak of black in the faint dawn light. There was a huge Extension Grime sitting on top of Big Bertha. Dez was upon the rider before he could sit up in the saddle.

  The BEM Plugger screamed as Dez jerked him from the slimy monster. The extension cord at his waist went taut and then snapped in a burst of sparks. The Extension Grime perked its head up, pale eyes wide. Severed from the rider, it no longer received the calming flow of electricity. It saw the school, with residual student brainwaves lingering there, and became instantly possessed with the wild drive to get inside.

  The huge Toxite leapt from the garbage truck and skittered forward, shaking out of its armor like a snake shedding skin. Spencer and Daisy backed up frantically as the monster compressed its body, squeezing bonelessly through the minuscule gap under the door.

  The Toxite breath hit Daisy in a wave of distraction. “Hey, Spencer!” she called. “Which do you like better: hopscotch or jump rope?”

  It took Spencer a moment to realize that the huge Grime wasn’t attacking. It was happy to be in the school and scuttled off down the hallway. Earl would have his work cut out for him when he got out of his cage.

  Daisy’s wits returned to her, and she suddenly looked confused. “Did I just say something about hopscotch?” she asked.

  There wasn’t time to answer. Dez had dropped the Plugger and was winging around. The Rubbish riders took flight. Although Spencer would never admit it aloud, Dez was clearly the superior flier. The Pluggers were riding Rubbishes, but Dez was one.

  He weaved between the two Pluggers, slam
med the plunger against the top of Big Bertha, and flapped his way back toward the school.

  Dez was anything but graceful, as evidenced by the way he set the garbage truck down. He swung Big Bertha around, sending the front bumper through the nearest school window and causing Spencer and Daisy to hit the floor as glass showered around them.

  Dez twisted the plunger handle, detaching the vehicle with so much momentum that Big Bertha skidded backward and crushed the school doors, blocking the planned exit for Spencer and Daisy.

  The Pluggers were swarming on Dez, but he took to the sky like a rocket. Spencer unclipped a broom and drifted through the shattered window. Daisy was right behind him as they landed just beside Big Bertha’s door.

  Spencer fumbled with the key and shoved it into the little lock, muttering under his breath. “This garbage truck can drive on walls, but it doesn’t even have one of those remote unlock buttons?”

  A Filth Plugger appeared around the cab of the truck. The beast roared, and Daisy flicked a mop in its direction. The strings tangled around the creature’s face, but she didn’t wait to see how the rider reacted. Spencer had the cab door open, and Daisy dropped the mop handle to follow him inside.

  Spencer and Daisy were both wedged into the driver’s seat as she pulled the door shut.

  “Okay,” Spencer muttered. It took a second to locate the ignition. He thrust in the key and turned it. The engine cranked over and over, but Big Bertha didn’t want to start. The Plugger had guided his Extension Filth to the truck door. The huge creature was slobbering on the driver’s side window, its heavy claws raking against the glass.

  Spencer slapped the steering wheel in frustration and tried turning the key again. “Come on!” he yelled.

  “Give it a little gas,” said Daisy.

  Spencer looked down at the pedals beneath his feet. He felt a trickle of sweat on his forehead. “The gas is the one on the right, isn’t it?”

  “Haven’t you ever driven a car before?” Daisy asked.

  Spencer stared at her. “I’m twelve,” he pointed out. “Have you?”

  Daisy nudged Spencer into the middle seat. She dropped her right foot down, pumping the gas pedal while she cranked the key in the ignition. Big Bertha responded perfectly, the Glopified engine coming to life with a diesel purr. Daisy grabbed a lever and put the truck into gear. Spinning the wheel, she guided the garbage truck across the school parking lot.