by Josh Vogt
“Plus, it’s fire retardant and will keep blot-hound puke and other Scum fluids from dissolvin’ your skin if you get hit. And the uniforms help us blend in wherever we’re workin’.”
“Blend?”
“Yup,” he said. “Who pays attention to a janitor or two? We’re everywhere. Hospitals, malls, office buildings, schools.”
“To fight the forces of Corruption,” she said. “Scum?”
“Oh, good. You’ve been takin’ notes.”
Ben opened the passenger door and looked to her. She stared at the seat and remained unmoving. Finally he waved and made a mocking bow.
“Well? In you go. Chivalry ain’t my strong suit, so take it when you can get it.”
She darted to the back and grabbed a clean cloth and bottle of cleaning fluid. She attacked the seat with these until the faux-leather gleamed. Only then did she deign to slip inside and perch herself on the cushion.
Ben muttered to himself as he got in on the driver’s side. She sat hunched in her seat, boots tucked up in a full-body cringe.
This won’t be no joy ride, that’s for sure.
The afternoon Denver sun slanted between the skyscrapers as he navigated the van out of the garage and through the flow of businessmen, tourists, joggers and bikers along the sidewalk.
Astonishment wiped away some of Dani’s pensive expression. “We’re still in the city?”
“Where’d you think HQ was? The Twilight Zone?”
Her scowl returned. “As if that’d be any weirder than what I’ve experienced so far.”
“Think of this as an education on how the world really works.”
“My world was working just fine,” Dani said. “One more year and I’d be heading to med school to become a doctor. And now I’m stuck in some smelly van with an old fart for a boss instead of in my dorm, feeding my lizard and learning things that won’t give me nightmares. I bet I’m stewing in germs just sitting here.”
He straightened, making his neck, shoulders, and spine pop. “A’ight, this is what I don’t get, princess. You have these big dreams about bein’ a doctor, bein’ up to your armpits in sick folk and tellin’ people to turn and cough, yet you can’t handle a little dirt?”
“Not all doctors deal with patients,” she said. “I figured I’d go into research. Lab work where everything’s sealed up behind glass. Where I could fight germs from a distance.”
“And what makes you hate germs so much, huh? You get bullied by one when you was a kid?”
Her gloves squeaked as she made fists. “They’re just … wrong. They get inside you. Invade you. They make you dirty on a cellular level. Make you sick and broken, unless you do everything you can to protect yourself. It’s all so messy.”
Ben’s right arm started itching, but he clamped his hands on the steering wheel. “Life is messy. People are alive; escrow, people are messy.”
“You mean ergo.”
“Whatever. The point is, the more people, the more mess.”
“But we don’t let things stay messy, do we?”
“’Course not. But you don’t gotta go all ninja on a germ and kill it and its whole extended family. Sometimes fightin’ Corruption is as simple as not lettin’ it get a big foothold in the first place. Preventative maintenance.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“Then you ain’t listenin’. This ain’t no cakewalk. You’re gonna sweat and bleed and curse your parents’ first kiss—and that’s just while pickin’ litter off a sidewalk. And in the rare instances where people are keeping tidy, there’s plenty of Scum happy to chuck muck around. It’s our job to keep things as clean as possible and help the innocent folks go on livin’ without bein’ overwhelmed by the mess.”
She stiffened. “Oh my ***. I just realized this explains things.”
“What does?”
“This! All of this. It explains everything about me! Why I’ve always hated dirt and germs. It’s because they really are evil.”
“Er. No.” He tapped the side of his head. “That’s just you bein’ a little off your rocker.”
“But—”
“It’s complicated. Don’t start slappin’ labels like good and evil on everything just yet. It’s not that tidy.”
He changed lanes, heading for the next off-ramp. Dani looked around.
“Where are we going?”
“I wasn’t kiddin’ earlier. We gotta clean some mall bathrooms.”
“That’s disgusting. I’m not doing that.”
He grinned. “Oh, you will.”
They endured a silent ride south to the Park Meadows Mall. With its mingling of large wooden beams, huge windows, and trees planted all around the main entrances, it looked like someone had pumped a mountain cabin full of steroids and then plastered it with chain logos.
Dani perked up as they drove past the entrance to the food court. “I’m starving.”
“There’s some leftover tacos in the glove compartment. Welcome to ’em.”
“Okay. Not hungry anymore.”
“Wimp. Well, if you ain’t gonna, then pass them over.”
She hesitated until he waved for the food. With a look of incredulous disgust, she popped the glove case open and pulled out two tacos. Even with the rubber gloves on, she pinched each between thumb and forefinger and tossed them into his lap.
He unwrapped them with one hand and crunched down on the stale shells and a mash of cheese, sour cream, wilted lettuce, and mystery meat. She leaned away as he wolfed the tacos down, spraying crumbs. By the time the last bite plopped into his gullet, she clutched her stomach as if sick.
“I can’t believe you just ate those.”
He patted his paunch and belched. “Builds up the ol’ immune system.”
She covered her mouth and nose. “When was the last time you brushed your teeth?”
“Wednesday.”
“Of which month?”
“That’s personal.”
He pulled around the back of the mall and parked by a series of trash bins and employee entrances. Ben muscled his cart free and, after locking up the van, wheeled it to the nearest door. Dani trailed behind as if dragged by a leash.
He shoved the cart into a long white-tiled, gray-walled corridor that ran along behind the stores. The air-conditioned hallway smelled of pine and each step or squeak of the cart wheels echoed loudly. They passed by several mall staff who didn’t give them a second glance.
He took them down a side hall, past vending machines and water fountains, and toward the restrooms at the far end. Being the middle of the week, only a few shoppers were present—mothers with strollers, elderly mall walkers, and the occasional security guard on a Segway.
“I don’t get it,” Dani said, breaking the long silence. “You say good and evil don’t apply, but aren’t these Scum the bad guys?”
Ben whistled low through his teeth. “It’s the name the Board slaps on anyone or anythin’ that draws their power from Corruption.” He unhooked a yellow plastic Closed for Cleaning sign from the side of the cart and set it up in front of the men’s restroom. “Then you’ve got your more neutral factions who just don’t care much about our fleshy realm. Interdimensional travelers who come through their portals and don’t wipe their feet, trackin’ existential muck across my clean tiles. Imps leavin’ coffee stains everywhere …”
Her expression went deadpan. “Coffee.”
“Yeah. Never give an imp coffee unless you wanna be scrapin’ gooey bits off the ceiling for a week.”
Ben handed her a bucket with a bottle of Clorox in it, plus a bristled toilet scrubber, and took her to the first stall.
“Corruption and Purity are in a bit of a balance right now. We just gotta keep things from tippin’ too far in Corruption’s favor. So …” He gestured to the waiting stall.
Her face scrunched. “But toilets? Isn’t that a bit undignified?”
“Stop stallin’ and get a-scrubbin’.” He smiled slightly. “’Sides, I ain’t doin’ it
just to play the cruel taskmaster. You’ve been through a lot, and it helps the mind process things if the body is distracted with some good ol’ manual labor.”
With a groan, Dani shuffled into the stall. Standing back as far as possible, holding the handle by the tip, she half-heartedly ran the brush around the bowl. As Ben watched, the itching in his right arm flared up again. He sucked a breath in, loud enough to make Dani look over her shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
He clutched the arm close and turned away. “Nothin’. I just forgot somethin’ in the van. I’ll be right back.”
O O O
Dani peeked out of the stall as Ben headed out. Why’d he hold his arm that way? An old injury? She’d have to ask about that.
Once the janitor’s footsteps receded, she turned back to stare at the toilet as if it were her arch-nemesis. For most of her life, the bathroom had been enemy territory. She’d had to sneak in, using wipes and gel and gloves to fight her way through if she had any hope of coming out unscathed.
Was she going to let those old fears rule her still? Here she stood, empowered, protected more than ever before against filth, and she still balked at the idea of even coming into this place without a full decontamination routine.
She had to start somewhere. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but she could at least enjoy a bit of revenge against something that had kept her living in fear for so many years.
Spreading her feet, she took up a defiant stance.
We meet again, Monsieur Toilet. Except this time, it seems I have you at a disadvantage.
She raised the brush and started whacking the toilet all over. Muted thuds filled the restroom, and she grunted with each connection, chanting to herself.
I.
Don’t.
Have.
To Be.
Afraid.
Any more.
Footsteps made her freeze mid-swing. Flushing, she spun and dropped the brush to her side as Ben stepped into view outside the stall.
“I was just—” she began.
Several facts slammed into her mind with paralyzing force. The newcomer wasn’t Ben. In fact, it didn’t appear to be anyone.
The figure stood a solid six feet tall with muscular proportions, clearly defined hands, and a vague impression of horns on an otherwise bald head. Featureless, it somehow gave the impression of staring at her. And its entire genderless form looked to be made of sand and grit that swirled in yellow, brown, and black eddies. Its feet left dusty patches across the tiles.
Scum. She knew it instinctively, as if she’d gained a mental radar that detected the beings the Cleaners opposed. Old fear surged through her, that of dirt and grime getting into the cracks of her skin, her eyes, her mouth. Of being caked with filth.
Dani stammered and tried to regain control of herself. Her power welled up, energy filling her to the brim, wanting to be released. Demanding it.
The creature continued staring.
“I … what do you want?” Dani managed. She had to calm down. But how, when facing a monster?
Its continued silence mocked her—and yet this affront helped her fear switch to anger. As she did, her grip on her power firmed. She refused to be intimidated by an overgrown dust bunny.
Raising the scrub brush like a sword, she eyed the monster over the bristle. “I don’t have to be afraid of you.”
She threw the brush with all her might. It struck the creature square in the chest and sunk in halfway. The creature showed no sign of pain; it didn’t even seem to notice the impaling tool as it raised a hand. Dirt drizzled from its fingers.
Dani flinched. A light bulb exploded overhead. The creature lunged. Its hand gripped her throat and drove her backward. Her hip slammed against the toilet basin, and her head smacked into the wall.
Stunned, her power fled as her vision dimmed.
***
Chapter Six
Ben grumbled as he wedged himself between the soda machine and wall, pinning his arm behind him so he couldn’t scratch. Scratching only made it worse.
Should he peel back the sleeve and check? No. Last time he did that, he couldn’t eat for a couple days.
Carl made concerned burbles in his bottle. Ben started to snap at him to keep his opinions to himself, but bit back the words. Minor irritants flaring his temper so much wasn’t a good sign. He’d been grumpier than normal, what with being forced into a Siamese twin act with Dani, but still … no excuse.
He ran a thumb along the spray trigger. “Sorry, buddy. I know you’re just tryin’ to help. Do one thing for me, will yah? Lemme know if I ever go overboard with her, eh? Be a bit of a moral compass so I don’t steer her too far off the crooked and narrow.”
Carl swirled in question.
“Mebbe, but it’s the only way I know how. Hit ’em with the truth, hard and fast, and sort out the pieces later. That’s all I can do with her. Hard and fast, and hope she can handle it.”
Carl slapped tiny waves together, snickering. Ben frowned until comprehension made him scowl. He shoved back out into the open.
“Oh, c’mon. You know I didn’t mean that. You really are a dirty little drip of … hang a sec. What’s that?”
He sniffed as he scoped the length of the hall. The area appeared undisturbed, but a foul odor threaded the air, and not one of his old-man farts, either. A scent of Corrupt energies made his arm prickle more.
He stiffened as he spotted the dusty footprints. They originated from a floor-level vent and led past the cleaning sign into the restrooms—and they hadn’t been there a minute before. The spray bottle on his hip jerked as Carl spouted in alarm.
“Oh, polish my puckerhole,” Ben said. “Get ready for a little hoe-down, buddy.”
As he sprinted into the restroom, he snatched the bottle up and triggered Carl, who spun out into a water-whip. All the stall doors were closed, but Dani’s feet were visible below the one she’d been working in. The heels of her rubber boots drummed the floor while another pair of dirt-colored feet straddled them.
He wrenched the door open and snapped the whip around the thick neck of the creature that pinned Dani. Its hand had deformed into a shapeless mass that covered her mouth and nostrils. She bucked and strained, but it had her butt stuck in the toilet bowl. Her eyes, gleaming with panic, locked onto him. A muffled scream pushed through the gagging muck.
Ben jerked back as hard as he could. With a hiss like poured sand, the creature released Dani and clutched at the whip as it staggered out of the stall. A ragged wheeze broke from Dani, who spat up a wad of mud and scrambled to her feet.
“What—” She gagged and coughed up more dirt as she grasped the top of a stall wall, looking ready to climb over to get away. “What is that thing?”
Ben wrangled the creature up against a mirror. A flurry of tiny scratches appeared on the glass wherever it touched.
“It’s a dust devil,” he said over his shoulder. “Don’t worry. The water should neutralize it long enough for me to—”
The dust devil reached up and snapped the cord from around its neck like a silk thread.
Ben’s eyes widened. “Uh—”
The dust devil barreled into him with a hot blast of sand. It ground in, cutting and scratching; its body plastered against his, trying to smother him like it had with Dani. Ben stumbled back into the stall next to Dani’s. The dust devil raised an arm, which narrowed into a spike.
“Holy ****.” Ben slammed the door shut.
With a screech, the spike punched through the door and jutted an inch away from his ribs. Ben sucked in his gut and pressed back against the toilet to keep from being disemboweled. The spike withdrew, only to spear back in repeatedly. Soon the creature stood visible through the holes. Not much longer and the door would provide as much defense as shredded tinfoil.
Dani yelped as the dust devil started alternating attacks from Ben’s door to hers, giving neither of them a chance to escape.
“Ben!”
“Water,” he
yelled. “Hit it with water!”
“The bucket’s out there!”
“Use the toilet.”
“No ******* way!”
Ben ducked as the dusty spike shot past his neck.
“Dani …”
“This is so GROSS!”
Splashing combined with disgusted whimpers. Handfuls of water flew over the top of her stall. The first missed, but the second and third splashed against the dust devil’s head and shoulders. Muddy chunks broke off and plopped to the floor. Moments later, grit replaced the damaged spots, but it provided enough of a distraction for Ben.
He timed the charge right as a fourth watery missile smacked into the construct. He flung the door open, dodged another stab, and flung himself at the creature. He managed a last breath before clamping his lips shut as grit scoured them.
Dani yelled in the background, but the dust devil’s hissing and the scrape of its body drowned out her words.
Gripping the spray bottle with both hands, he bear-hugged the dust devil and squeezed the trigger. Pure energies focused into the water, he mentally directed Carl until liquid encased both hands. Then he dropped the bottle and thrust his hands into the creature’s back. The dirt and dust recoiled from his touch. It should’ve penetrated like a knife through newspaper; instead, it felt like trying to punch hardening cement.
The dust devil stopped trying to thrust its limbs down his windpipe and reached backward with jointless arms. Its hands clamped around his wrists and tried to pull him out.
Even as he dizzied, Ben kept his mouth shut to avoid breathing. His heart pounded and his lungs felt ready to pop. Then his fingers connected with the dust devil’s core. With a mental shout, he yanked it out—a crystal-clear orb with thorny tendrils that tried to dig into his hand.
The dust devil shrieked and reeled back, while Ben gaped at what he held.
“Where … where’dja get this?”
Short hisses drew his gaze to the dust devil.
“Are you laughin’ at me?”
Its horned head swung to regard Dani, who peeked out from her stall. She shrank back and moved to shut the door again. The dust devil struck the door off its hinges, and the ruined metal clattered to the floor. Dani raised her hands as she hunched.
