[Janitors 04] Strike of the Sweepers (30 page)

The linkage was successful. As the portal’s frame glowed an eerie green, the view into Welcher Elementary School was clear and open. Bookworm’s dented lunchbox head ducked into view. When he saw Daisy hunkered behind the barricade, his textbook mouth curved in his classic grin, showing the pink retainer.

“Hi, Bookworm!” Daisy said. “You did a good job!”

He waggled his head as though happily embarrassed by her praise. Then he muttered something unintelligible and waved for the Rebels to step through the portal and join him in Welcher.

“We’ll hold ’em!” Marv yelled, slamming a pushbroom into a Filth Sweeper. “Head in there and get geared up!”

Penny rolled through the portal, clearly anxious to strap on a belt and get back into the action. Walter, Alan, and Bernard moved swiftly after her.

Spencer grinned, holding the squeegee at his side. With all the Rebels armed, it would certainly even the fight.

Something shot over the barricade, slimy and wet. It was the tongue of a Grime Sweeper, and it coiled around the squeegee handle before Spencer knew what was happening. The squeegee ripped from his grasp, flinging back to the mouth of a Sweeper woman who was crouched atop the barricade. She caught the tool in her teeth.

Spencer drew his mop and aimed the strings directly at her, but the damage was already done. The squeegee fell from the Sweeper’s mouth, the handle broken in half and the rubber scraper smoldering with Grime venom.

The mop attack went wide as the Sweeper woman bounded out of view. Spencer raced to the broken squeegee, but he couldn’t pick it up because it was soaked in acid. He watched in disbelief as the rubber melted away, ruined forever.

He heard Walter’s voice issuing an order from behind him. “All right,” the old warlock said. “Let’s smash this portal and find that nail!”

“Wait!” Spencer yelled, whirling around just in time to stop Penny from putting a razorblade through the portal’s glass border. “That’s our only way back,” he explained. “They destroyed the squeegee.”

It was silent for a moment, and everyone seemed to ponder and dismiss a number of alternatives.

“What about another squeegee?” Penny asked. “Leave one with Bookworm and we’ll take the other in search of the nail.”

Walter shook his head. “The squeegee formula was complicated,” he said. “I didn’t make very many.”

“What are you saying?” Bernard asked.

“I’m saying that there aren’t any more squeegees,” Walter said. “Not until I can mix another batch of Glop formula.”

“Maybe we can find a janitorial closet,” Penny said. “Spencer might be able to use his Glopifying powers on a regular squeegee.”

But Spencer shook his head. “I’m all out of power,” he said. It had been only a few hours since he had Glopified that leaf blower. It would be at least another day before his abilities recharged.

“That’s it, then,” Alan said. “We have to leave now.” He pointed back at the magical doorway to Welcher. “Everyone through the portal before it closes!”

“What about the nail?” Spencer said. He was feeling responsible. He had chosen to open the portal now, and he had lost the squeegee to that Grime Sweeper.

Alan and Walter glanced at one another. They were the only two who knew exactly what was in the
Manualis Custodem.
The looks on their faces told Spencer that nothing was more important than getting Belzora and the nail.

“I know right where it is,” Spencer said. “How long will the portal stay open?”

“About fifteen minutes,” Walter said.

“That’s enough time,” said Spencer. “We can get there and back before it closes.”

“Unless one of those Sweepers breaks the glass,” Penny said. “Then we’re all stuck here.”

Spencer shut his eyes, trying to think through it all. “I’ll go,” he said. “The rest of you stay here and guard the portal until I get back.”

“Absolutely not,” Walter said. “If anything—”

But Alan cut him off. He put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “We’re wasting precious time,” Alan said. “Spencer and I will get the nail; the rest of you protect the portal.”

No one argued with Spencer’s dad, though Walter’s expression was far from approving. Spencer checked to make sure that Belzora was resting safely in his belt pouch. Then he followed his dad to the edge of the barricade and peered over a downed table.

The room was full of Sweepers. There were far too many to outmaneuver, even with the latex gloves that Alan and Spencer were wearing.

“We need some cover to get to the stairs,” Alan muttered.

It was Dez who answered. “Wait a minute.” He had a pinched look on his face, and one taloned hand gripped his large middle. His other hand held the bottle of Mountain Dew. Spencer was surprised to see that it was already empty. Dez must have really chugged the stuff. “I think I’m working something up.”

“What are you talking about?” Spencer said. Then he heard Dez’s stomach gurgle loudly. “Uh-oh.”

Dez Rylie belched. The fizzy drink sent it rumbling up from his stomach, but this wasn’t a normal burp. When the Sweeper kid opened his mouth, a puff of black dust came spewing out, like fire from a dragon.

“Whoa!” Dez said, clamping both hands over his mouth and sealing the blast.

“Could you get any more disgusting?” Spencer shouted.

“What was that?” Daisy asked.

Dez was grinning now. “Just another Sweeper superpower!”

“I told you not to drink that soda,” Daisy said.

“Whatever!” He spread his wings, laughing. “I can burp dust!” Then he sprang into the air, landing just atop the barricade. His stomach rumbled and he let out the longest belch Spencer had ever heard.

Billowing black dust streamed out of his mouth, falling across the crowd of attacking BEM Sweepers. The enemy fell back, choking and blinded, while Dez laughed from his perch.

The attack, no matter how unconventional, was just what Spencer and his dad needed. In the chaos, they leapt over the barricade and sprinted toward the stairwell.

“You can thank me later!” Dez shouted. Then he seemed to gag, and he spat off the top of the barricade. “Ugh,” Spencer heard the bully say. “Bad aftertaste.”

Chapter 47

“You . . .”

Spencer and his dad actually reached the sixth floor much faster than anticipated. They came across only two Sweepers in the stairwell, one of which left a painful gash on Alan’s arm. Spencer had paused long enough to mist the wound with orange spray. Then they were kicking open the door and sprinting down an empty hallway.

The bottommost floor of the BEM laboratory had been bustling with Sweepers yesterday, when Spencer had been caged and carried to his interview with Mr. Clean. Now the level was nearly vacant. It seemed that most of the fight had been drawn to the Rebels on the fourth floor.

They took down only two more Sweepers before Spencer and his dad came to the double doors at the end of the hall. Only a day had passed since Spencer had seen the bronze nail in the wall above the round window. Spencer hoped with all his might that it hadn’t been moved since then.

Spencer shoved against the doors and was surprised to find them unlocked. The two Zumbros stepped into the room, and Spencer noted that everything was just as he remembered it. A simple desk in the center of the room, empty except for the intercom that Mr. Clean had used to communicate with them in the elevator.

On the far wall was that large sea window, taller than Spencer and perfectly round. He thought he saw a fish swim by, illuminated by an exterior deep-sea light.

And above the window, a twinkle of bronze glittered in the room’s soft lamplight.

Alan quietly shut the doors as Spencer crossed toward the nail. “Hope this doesn’t take long,” Alan said. “That portal’s only going to stay open for another ten minutes or so.”

Back in September, Spencer had used Ninfa to pull out a bronze nail in Welcher. It had been a quick and rather effortless process. And Daisy hadn’t had any trouble using Holga to draw the nail in New Forest Academy. Spencer hoped this would be the same.

Reaching into his belt pouch, Spencer used his gloved hand to withdraw Belzora. The hammer felt comfortable in his grip, but he could feel that it was much more powerful than its plain appearance would indicate.

As he stepped around Mr. Clean’s desk, Spencer realized that he wouldn’t quite be able to reach the nail above the sea window. He grabbed the desk chair as he passed, pulling it over to the wall and stepping up onto the seat.

Rising onto his tiptoes, Spencer stretched Belzora as high as he could until the blunt end of the hammer touched the small nail in the wall. A golden glow began to form between hammer and nail. Spencer felt the power surge down his arm as the magic began to extract the ancient nail.

The small piece of metal slipped from the wall and fell to the floor with a tinkle. In his excitement, Spencer leapt off the chair, scooped up the nail, and tucked it into his belt pouch.

“Got it!” Spencer said, turning to his dad. But Alan Zumbro was not wearing the same victorious expression as his son. He was standing in the center of the room, staring at the double doors, which had just flung open.

There must have been at least twenty Sweepers crowding in the hallway outside the door. Spencer couldn’t count them, but he knew it was an impossible number to withstand. They were cornered. It was over.

Alan began to take a step back toward his son, but froze as the crowd of Sweepers parted. A familiar figure slipped into view, white lab coat draped across his broad frame.

It was Mr. Clean.

Spencer tensed himself against the enemy warlock, but Alan went rigid. Spencer could tell his dad was trying to say something, but his mouth just kept opening and closing in total dismay.

“You . . .” Alan finally mustered, as Mr. Clean came toward him. “You . . .”

“Surprised to see me, old friend?” Mr. Clean asked. “The years have not been kind to you.”

“Dad?” Spencer interrupted. “What’s going on? You . . . know him?”

“Know him?” Alan said. “This man was my partner.” He swallowed hard. “This is Rod Grush.”

Chapter 48

“I don’t believe you will.”

Spencer stood in stunned silence as Mr. Clean stepped closer to his dad. It made sense now. The reason Mr. Clean had sent Leslie Sharmelle to eliminate Alan instead of coming himself. The reason Mr. Clean had been so quick to use green spray when Alan seemed to recognize him on the night they met Professor DeFleur. The reason Clean had separated Alan from the rest of the Rebels. He didn’t want his true identity to be known.

He was Rod Grush—the man who supposedly had sacrificed everything to solve the thirteen Auran clues with Alan.

“I don’t understand,” Alan said. “I thought you were dead.”

“You thought what I wanted you to think,” Mr. Clean said. “From the moment we met till the moment our partnership ended.”

Alan shook his head. “You didn’t want me to find the thirteenth clue? You were behind the attack at the school? I thought they killed you!”

“I was behind everything,” Mr. Clean said.

“But the warlocks hired us to solve the clues. . . .”

“
I
was the commanding warlock,” said Mr. Clean. “I opened the Warlocks Box and used your expertise to help me solve the Auran clues.”

“No,” Alan said. “You wouldn’t do that. You were my friend.”

Mr. Clean’s mouth curved in a belittling smile. “You were my puppet,” he said. “There is no such thing as a friend in this corrupted world.” Mr. Clean stepped swiftly forward and seized Alan by the wrist.

“Dad!” Spencer shouted. Why didn’t he pull away from the Sweeper warlock? Alan was still wearing his latex glove.

“It’s all right, Spence,” his dad said. His voice was surprisingly calm, considering the hopeless circumstances. “He won’t hurt me. This is Rod Grush.” He said it as if he were still trying to convince himself. “He was my friend.”

Mr. Clean reached into his white lab coat and withdrew a dirty rag. He held the corner and gently twirled it, letting gravity wind the rag into a deadly weapon. Spencer had seen the warlock use it before. He was going to kill Alan, just as he’d killed Director Garcia. He was going to kill him the Clean Way, and not a trace would be left of Alan Zumbro.

“Your faith in me is warming,” Mr. Clean said, “though poorly placed. I will do this and feel no regret. I will kill you,
friend.
”

Alan squared his shoulders and looked the big man in the eyes. “I don’t believe you will.”

Standing across the room, Spencer did not share an ounce of his dad’s hopeful belief in Mr. Clean’s mercy. The man holding his dad was
Mr. Clean.
As far as Spencer was concerned, Rod Grush no longer existed.

The Sweeper warlock raised his deadly rag, and Spencer reacted without hesitation. He wielded Belzora like a war hammer, smashing the bronze tool into the circular deep-sea window as hard as he could. It struck the thick glass with a solid
smack,
instantly sending spiderweb cracks across the smooth surface.

Mr. Clean froze as the insurmountable pressure of the Atlantic depths pressed against the weakened window. Spencer stepped aside just as the water pressure became too great. The glass shattered, and a horizontal column of ocean water shot into the BEM lab with unbelievable force.

Spencer barely had time to draw a breath before the entire room was full of icy water. Swept off his feet, Spencer slammed into the wall, barely managing to hang onto the bronze hammer. The impact surely would have broken his bones if it weren’t for the protection of his Glopified coveralls. The lamps in the office exploded, plunging the room into darkness, with shadowy figures thrashing in the deep.

It took Spencer a moment to orient himself. There was light coming from the hallway, though it too was completely underwater. He assumed that the entire sixth floor was already flooded. And it wouldn’t take long for the water to rise.

Mr. Clean and the Sweepers were gone, knocked away by the violent rush of water. A few Sweepers bobbed unconscious, the Glop knocked out of them. But there was nothing Spencer could do about that. He had to find his dad and swim up to the fourth floor before the squeegee portal closed.