Just then, the entire gang of Pluggers came careening over the edge of the slope in a vicious downward charge. They must have been waiting at the edge of the utensil forest, and when they saw that their leader’s surprise plan to take Alan had failed, they rode hard to finish the job.
Alan dropped the walkie-talkie into the mud and brought his heel down hard, smashing the device into ruined pieces.
“This way!” Sach shouted, racing back toward the Glop lagoon. Walter pulled Daisy away from the shattered form of Leslie Sharmelle as Bernard and Penny followed closely behind. Spencer stood beside his dad, who lingered for only a moment at the site where Leslie and her Filth had met their demise, a look of unmasked relief on his face. Then they were sprinting after the others, making a hasty retreat before the Pluggers reached them.
“Where are we going?” Spencer shouted at Sach. The Dark Auran appeared to be leading them right back to the Broomstaff. Spencer could see the group of Aurans gathered at the shore of the lagoon.
“We need to join forces,” Sach said.
“With the Aurans?” It didn’t seem like a good plan, but Sach was set on it.
The Aurans fanned out when they saw the Rebels coming in. Janitorial belts were at the ready and weapons were in hand. Spencer almost laughed at the astonished look on V’s face when she saw Sach leading the Rebels in. “You!” V shouted. “I should have known.”
“One of us had to interfere,” Sach said, “since none of you seemed interested in saving Spencer’s dad.”
“What about Aryl and Olin?” V said. “I assume they’re nearby.”
“Oh, we know you’d love to have all three of us together,” Sach said. “Which is why I’m here alone.” He held out his hand. “Lower your weapons. We’re not here to fight.”
“Speak for yourself,” V said. “I’m always ready for a fight.”
“Well, good,” Sach said. “Because we’re going to have one in less than a moment. But it’s going to be against them.” He pointed behind him to where the gang of Pluggers was closing fast.
“They’re after the Rebels,” V said. “They’re not our enemies.”
“Maybe not,” answered Sach. “But they’re too close now. You can’t hope to get away before the Toxite breath overpowers you. And when it does, you’ll be helpless against them.”
“What are you suggesting?” V tilted her head.
Sach reached over and unclipped the vanilla air freshener from Daisy’s janitorial belt. “This nullifies the effects of Toxite breath,” he said. “Stay close and we all have a chance of surviving.”
V hesitated for only a moment. “This doesn’t make us comrades,” she muttered, squaring her shoulders for battle.
Spencer didn’t know who to trust anymore. The Aurans had tried to Pan him, and Sach was supposedly evil. But bygones had to be bygones—at least for a while. The Rebels had a much better chance of survival by joining with ten more fighters. Then Spencer realized that there were only nine Aurans on the shore of the lagoon.
Spencer glanced back toward the towering Broomstaff. Rho was the only Auran worthy of trust, but she was trapped on the island with no way off while the Glop was being pumped into the earth.
Seeing the churning mixture caused Spencer another wave of despair. He had to tell his dad that this wasn’t the Glop source. He had to tell him that there was no way to destroy the Glop, and that everything they saw in the lagoon was being recycled to make more Toxites.
“This isn’t the source, Dad. They’re pumping the Glop . . .” He started to explain, but his dad suddenly pulled him into a tight hug.
“It doesn’t matter, Spence.” And for a moment, it didn’t. The impending attack of the Pluggers, the trickery and deception of the Aurans, the Glop lagoon . . . for a moment, as he was held in his dad’s arms, none of it mattered.
For the first time in his recent life, Spencer felt at peace with his dad. Here beside the gurgling lagoon, he realized that although the quest into the landfill had not brought them to the source, as they’d hoped, it had brought him and his father together. And that was more than either of them could have hoped for.
Then the illusion of safety was broken as Spencer saw the gang of Pluggers drawing into an offensive line. He pulled away from his dad, renewed to face the dangers ahead.
The riders twisted the dials on their battery packs, reining back their creatures at a distance of about forty yards. The monsters stamped and hissed, but they were far enough away that the Toxite breath did not reach the Rebels or Aurans yet.
Spencer tried to count them, thinking it might be a good idea to know how many Pluggers they were up against. Then he decided that counting was only cause for despair. There were maybe a dozen Extension Filths, and almost as many Grimes. Overhead, a handful of Extension Rubbishes went into a dive, landing heavily in the mud to form an impassable line.
“Ready!” shouted one of the Pluggers, who had obviously taken charge in Leslie Sharmelle’s absence. The rider reached down through his Filth’s bristling fur and lifted a bucket from the saddle. He ripped off the lid with one hand, and Spencer saw bristling wings, tails, and quills, confined in the bucket by an unseen force.
An Agitation Bucket.
Spencer hadn’t seen once since his time at New Forest Academy. The buckets held small Toxites against their will, causing them such anger that, once released, the Toxites would attack with unmatched fury.
Spencer didn’t know if the Aurans understood the danger. He didn’t even have time to shout a warning before the man on the Extension Filth upended his Agitation Bucket and let the creatures stream forward unbridled.
Spencer felt a wave of sleepiness hit him as the agitated Toxites came tearing across the dark earth, their bodies twitching with anger.
“Freshener!” Walter shouted, releasing a hiss of aerosol. The other Rebels joined the spray, instantly purifying the air around them and the Aurans.
The Plugger seemed dismayed by the defensive air freshener. “Release another bucket!” he shouted. The rider at his left popped open the lid of a second Agitation Bucket and heaved the contents forward. Then the gang of Pluggers charged in a line of beasts and Glopified weapons.
The small, agitated Toxites struck first, rending and biting in a hiss of claws and teeth. Spencer fell back, his hand closing around the dustpan at his belt. With a twist of the handle, the metal dustpan fanned outward, forming into a round shield. Diving Rubbishes pinged off his defense, streaks of black in the glow of the Glop lagoon.
Spencer found the pouch containing his razorblade and flicked the button. The blade leapt out, skewering a little Grime and reducing it to a splatter of yellowish slime. Daisy was pulling him up, her pushbroom angling past his head and taking out a Rubbish midflight.
There was nowhere to retreat. The agitated Toxites were as thick as a swarm of gnats, and the larger, more deadly Extension Toxites were circling around to flank them.
Penny’s short-handled mops looked more lethal than ever. She spun them around like nunchucks, the strings extending and retracting to snuff out the agitated Toxites.
An Extension Filth sprang for Walter, but Bernard and Alan moved to block its path. The creature reared on its hind legs, bellowing, as the spiked tail thumped the sodden earth.
Sach and the Aurans were carving out a defensive ring, their countless years of combat training coming in useful. One of the Extension Grimes spat a chug of venomous slime. V sidestepped the steaming liquid and delivered a well-placed blow from her two-headed mop to the Grime’s neck. The Glopified armor turned the mop strings aside, but the creature withdrew.
As long as the air freshener lingered around the Aurans, they would have a fighting chance. But Spencer knew that, with so many Toxites, the monster breath would win out soon. He released another shot of air freshener from behind his shield, hoping it would be enough.
The Auran defenses were breaking down. Spencer was moving to fill the gap when an Extension Filth charged through. It loped to
ward Daisy, rearing back on its hind legs before the rider spurred it to attack.
The beast’s hairy jaws were opening, sharp claws descending, when something miraculous happened. The scraps of garbage at Daisy’s feet suddenly moved. In a heartbeat, the trash sprang to life, forming quickly into a familiar Thingamajunk.
Bookworm met the Filth head-on, wrestling the creature back with his strong arms. They were an equal match for only a moment before Bookworm tossed the Filth aside. The Thingamajunk’s foot came down in a solid kick, cracking the Toxite’s helmet and leaving a dusty gash across its face. The rider retreated instantly, coaxing his injured beast to the sidelines of the battle.
“Bookworm!” Daisy cried. “You came back!”
The Thingamajunk dropped onto all fours and gave a snarling grin, covers of the textbook folding back. The pink retainer was still there, and this time, there seemed to be fewer worms.
Daisy was still reveling in the reunion when an overhead attack, unexpected and accurate, came from an Extension Rubbish.
The beast opened its massive beak and blew a stream of thick black dust like a ribbon of fire. The cloud settled around the Aurans, obscuring their vision and causing them to gasp for fresh air. In the chaos, huge talons closed around Spencer and Daisy, lifting them into the darkness.
But as Daisy screamed out, Bookworm flung into action. The Thingamajunk leapt high into the air, seizing the Extension Rubbish by the beak and pulling it into a headlock.
The huge Rubbish squawked, dropping its prey as it spiraled off into the darkness with Bookworm still clinging around its neck.
Spencer landed face downward in the mud, dangerously close to the edge of the lagoon. He heard Daisy grunt as she struck the ground. Glancing up, he saw her slide past, momentum causing her to tumble across the slick earth.
“Daisy!” Spencer threw aside his shield and reached for her, but it was too late. Daisy Gates slipped off the edge of the muddy bank and fell, out of sight, into the roiling lagoon of Glop.
Chapter 49
“I have to shut this down!”
Spencer staggered to his feet, rage and fear coursing through him. His razorblade slashed in utter frustration, cutting asunder a pack of agitated Filths. He reached the lagoon’s embankment and fell to his knees, peering over the edge for any sign of his friend.
“Phew,” Daisy said, staring up at him. “That was close.” She had fallen into one of the blue recycle boats. Still tethered to the bank, it bobbed against the current of the draining Glop.
“I think it’s some kind of boat,” Daisy said. She reached down and picked up the bristly toilet brush. “What’s this for? Is this what they use to destroy the Glop?”
But the Aurans weren’t destroying it. The Glop was being recycled, flushed downward to an unknown source.
Spencer squinted across the glowing haze of the lagoon toward the pump house. He needed to stop the recycling process. Maybe he could turn off the pump before any more Glop was drained.
Making a hasty decision, Spencer slid off the muddy bank and dropped into the boat next to Daisy. Rho had said that it was too dangerous to sail while the pump was activated. But they would never make it to the pump house on foot, not with so many enemies between them and their destination.
“We have to get to the far side of the lagoon,” Spencer said. “The Aurans are recycling this Glop, and that’s going to make more Toxites. I think I can shut it down if we can get inside that pump house.”
Spencer swung his razorblade and sliced through the tethering rope. Instantly, the current pulled them away from the bank. Daisy lowered herself to the bottom of the boat as Spencer took the toilet brush from her hand.
Reaching off the back of the recycle bin, he dipped the brush into the thick liquid. The brush spun, kicking up gooey bubbles as it propelled them farther into the lagoon.
There was a shout from the bank, and Spencer took a hasty glance over his shoulder in time to see V sliding down into another boat. She wasn’t going to let Spencer escape, even if it meant abandoning the fight for a high-speed boat chase.
“They’re after us!” Daisy shouted as V cut her boat free and dipped the brush into the Glop.
Spencer and Daisy were halfway to the pump house when their recycle bin caught a swift eddy. The boat lurched and spun, rocking almost to the point of throwing them out. Spencer dug the toilet brush deeper into the Glop. It was spinning hard, flinging out a wake of sticky liquid, but the boat wasn’t going anywhere.
V sped forward, hunched over the blue bin. Her silvery hair blew like a mad scientist’s as her boat skipped off waves.
“I thought we were supposed to go that way!” Daisy pointed as their boat dragged backward.
“We’re caught in a whirlpool!” Spencer frantically shifted the toilet brush from side to side. “It’s sucking us down!”
He abandoned the brush, dropping it into the bottom of the boat. They were twirling in circles now, drawing closer to the Broomstaff island, though both were too dizzy and sick to realize just how close.
Daisy’s eyes were wide as she stared into the churning muck. “Do you think this is what happened to the Titanic?” she asked. “Maybe we should abandon ship and try to swim to shore.”
“I don’t think we can even survive in Glop,” Spencer answered, “let alone swim!”
Then suddenly, mop strings lashed out through the darkness, snaring Spencer around the middle. He would have been jerked out of the boat if his grip hadn’t been so solid on the edge of the bin. As it was, his arms felt like they were getting ripped from their sockets.
The mop strings stopped the blue boat from spinning, and Spencer saw that the weapon extended not from V, as he’d expected, but from the Broomstaff island.
Rho held the handle of the mop, bracing herself in the slippery mud. The girl heaved backward, and Spencer felt like he might rip in half. After another heave, the mop strings began to retract naturally, dragging the blue bin out of the dangerous whirlpool and back into calmer waters.
In the next moment, the strings were gone altogether and Spencer tumbled forward onto Daisy. She gave a nervous laugh and reached over the back of the bin, toilet brush in hand. The bristles spun into action, sending them back on course for the pump house.
Rho gave an encouraging wave, and Spencer managed to return the gesture before he saw the incoming boat.
V was closing fast. She had carefully avoided the whirlpool and gained a big advantage. V maneuvered the craft to cut them off, positioning her bin between Spencer and the pump house.
“Dig deep!” Spencer called to Daisy. The girl gritted her teeth and plunged the brush deeper into the Glop, so deep that she could feel the heat begin to scald her bare hand. The blue bin responded immediately, gathering speed on what seemed like a collision course with V.
Spencer unclipped a broom, rising unsteadily to his feet and taking aim. Dead ahead, the leader of the Aurans scowled at him.
When Spencer was close enough to see her rain-soaked face clearly, he gauged the distance to the pump house, hoping he was close enough. Then he reached back, grabbed Daisy by the arm, and slammed the broom against the bottom of the blue bin boat.
They launched forward, Daisy screaming, then grabbing onto Spencer’s back as they soared over V’s head. Their empty bin capsized with the shaky launch, sinking out of sight and melting into a streak of blue plastic.
Spencer and Daisy barely reached the shore. They skidded through the mud, broom flying aside as they bumped painfully against the wall of the pump house. Spencer was immediately on his feet. Daisy, slightly stricken, took a second longer. By the time she was up, Spencer had already found the door.
It was a simple brick building, showing signs of decay and erosion that suggested it was quite old. The door was wooden and warped, with bands of iron holding it together. Spencer grabbed the handle and pulled. The door was stiff, but in a moment, the two kids stood on a landing inside the pump house.
The inside was bigg
er than Spencer expected, with a ladder leading down and another shorter one leading up to a loft. Giant pipes intersected the whole house, twisting and turning in every conceivable angle. The pipes vibrated under the pressure of operation, the joints rattling like they might shake apart at any moment.
At the center of the room was a massive hydraulic pump. The huge cylinder lifted smoothly on an oiled shaft, then slammed down hard, releasing a hiss of sulfuric vapor as it forced the Glop through the pipes and deep into the earth.
“It smells funny in here,” Daisy said, crinkling her nose. Spencer couldn’t let himself get distracted by gross details.
“There’s got to be a switch or something to turn this thing off,” he said.
“Maybe up there.” Daisy pointed up to the loft.
Spencer nodded. “You check above; I’m going down for a look around.”
They tightened their janitorial belts, and Daisy quickly scampered up the short ladder while Spencer began his descent down the long one.
“It just looks like a bunch of gears and pulleys up here!” Daisy shouted before Spencer had even reached the bottom of his ladder. “My dad would love this place.”
“Look for a button or a switch!”
Spencer skipped the bottom rung of the ladder and landed on the concrete floor. Here the vapor was thicker, a sickly yellow hue that forced him to squint. He ducked under some pipes and made his way toward the rising and falling pump. He noticed a set of meters and gauges, red needles that spun around, measuring volume and pressure.
“Nothing up here!” Daisy shouted, her voice almost lost in the hiss of the great pump.
“We have to find it!” Spencer called back, running his hands over the meters for any kind of button. “We have to shut this thing down before all the Glop gets recycled!”
“Too late for that!” called a familiar voice.
Spencer whirled around, peering through the hazy vapor to see V standing on the platform above. Daisy was halfway down the ladder. Before she could move, V was on her, pinning the girl against the rungs and holding her fast.
Curse of the Broomstaff Page 23
