Enter the Janitor (The Cleaners) (Volume 1)

by Josh Vogt

  “Thanks, Stewart. Sorry for the bother.”

  The trash mage shrugged. “Still t’weren’t as bad as last time.” He winked at Dani and then shuffled out into the passage.

  “Exactly what did you do the last time you were here?” Dani asked.

  “Later.” He nudged her forward and down. “Hoof it.”

  ***

  Chapter Fourteen

  The damp air under the garbage mound changed into a cold rankness that drove its fist into Ben’s stomach with every breath. He took a flashlight from a hip pocket and flicked it on, illuminating a rusted steel walkway that ended in a lip twenty strides further.

  Dani kept close as he moved to the edge, trying to walk silently so he might hear any pursuers. He had to brace on his mop more than usual. Not even lunchtime yet and his joints already ached as if someone had used them for an extended drum solo.

  Stewart had closed the way behind them, and they stood deep enough within the mound to block out everything but their own footsteps. A glance over the side showed rungs leading down to a concrete platform, walled-in except for a narrow brick tunnel leading into darkness.

  “Follow me,” he told Dani, gesturing at the ladder.

  “Where are we going?” she whispered.

  “Someplace that makes Stewart’s dump look like paradise. Can you handle it?”

  After chewing her lip a bit, she nodded. It encouraged him to see determination in her eyes, rather than fear. Though she did adjust her gloves and take a quick swig of mouthwash.

  “I won’t enjoy it,” she said through a mouthful of spearmint. “But I’ll survive.”

  They climbed down the ladder to the grate below, rubber boots thudding against the grille. A short walkway cut through a wall and into the passage beyond. Ben emerged and shone his light up and down the way, breathing soft, alert for anything out of place.

  It looked like a normal stretch of sewer—concrete walkways on either side of a channel of flowing muck and debris. Slimy brick walls curved into the distance, with only a few sputtering maintenance lights pushing back the darkness.

  Normal … except for the graffiti decorating the walls. Arcane scribbles, circles and glyphs marked the brick at random. Ben closed his eyes and stretched his senses out, detecting all manner of Scum wards—alarms, traps, charged circles that would summon Corrupt manifestations, and a few portals. Stewart’s landfill sat on top of a veritable hub of Scum traffic. Fortunately, most of them were touch-activated; with the others, he’d be able to mask their presence long enough to pass by without activating them.

  Carl splashed in his bottle. Ben opened his eyes and suppressed a deep sigh.

  “I know. I hate tuckin’ tail and runnin’, too, but we ain’t got many options right now.” An insistent gurgle made him frown. “Thanks for the encouragement.”

  “What’d he say?” Dani asked. She stood as far as she could from the sewage without touching the moldy walls. Half-hidden in the gloom, her face took on a spectral quality, as if she might fade away if kept underground too long.

  “Just reminded me of a promise I made way back when. If he falls on the job, I gotta scatter his ashes and tell his family he died a hero.”

  “Scatter his … is that even possible?”

  “Dunno. And I ain’t gonna find out.” He thumped the spray bottle. “Don’t mind him. He just gets a bit antsy around sewage.”

  “I can relate.” She flinched as something dripped from the ceiling and plopped into the sluggish current. “Where are we?”

  “Remember me sayin’ how Stewart was kinda in-between Purity and Corruption? A border between both sides?”

  She flicked her ponytail over a shoulder. “Sure.”

  “Well, we just crossed behind enemy lines. Welcome to the Sewers.”

  Her widening eyes tracked the length of the tunnel, noting the elements he’d been studying. She wouldn’t know what they meant, but no doubt she’d picked up on all the volatile, destructive energy the graffiti contained.

  “Are we in danger?”

  “Assume we are and go from there.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  “Really? Musta said it wrong.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Destin needs evidence, yeah? Well, we got a few juicy bits from Stewart, but the Board ain’t about to act on the word of a trash mage. We need to get someone more reputable to confirm those reports and link ’em to ours. That way we got somethin’ a bit more concrete to toss in their laps.” He popped his neck on either side. “But first things first—gettin’ outta here with our gizzards intact. If I remember the maps to this junction right, there’s an exit hatch a few miles north.”

  She made a full-body cringe. “A few miles? Through this?”

  “We go quick and quiet and we shouldn’t stir up anythin’ too nasty. Walk where I do, and don’t touch the walls, a’ight? Don’t even let your clothes brush the brick.”

  “No problem there.” Doubt shaded her gaze as she squinted down the sewer line. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

  “Atta girl.”

  He raised a hand to pat her back, then caught himself and dropped it again. Before she could question the gesture, he edged out into the tunnel proper and, after mentally orienting himself, headed north.

  Gurgles, trickles, and drips masked their steps. The walkway was wide enough for them to avoid the walls, though Ben’s right arm erupted into needling tingles whenever he got close. Dani stayed a step behind him and he kept checking over his shoulder to make sure she was still there. Whenever they made eye contact, she gave a shaky thumbs-up and re-secured her dust mask.

  After half a mile of skulking, passing by numerous junctions and taking several turns, they came to a larger chamber with a foul pool churning in the middle. Four concrete platforms occupied each corner, connected by footbridges. The ceiling was lost in blackness overhead; not a single grate present to let in sunlight. The air hung heavy and hot, stinking with refuse and—Ben sniffed—yes, blood. Fresh. Used in painting some of the glyphs, perhaps.

  He paused just outside the entrance, studying the layout and trying to decide which of the three offered passages to take.

  “Ben?”

  He looked back to Dani, who dabbed at her face with a towelette. “Eh?”

  “How’d Sydney know we were at the garbage dump?”

  He frowned at the path. “Good question. Tryin’ to figure it out m’self.”

  “Could Stewart have told him we were there?”

  A shake of his head, even while similar suspicions squirmed in his gut. “No. He wouldn’t have done that. We’ve worked together for too long.”

  “Are you sure?”

  A scraping noise spared Ben from answering. He flicked his light off and turned to press Dani into a crouch with him, careful to touch her protected shoulder with his left hand. They’d paused in a deep patch of shadows. He used his mop to balance himself on the balls of his feet and watched.

  A band of figures shuffled into view at the corner fifty paces down and moved to the near platform—close enough to hear their hissing and snarls. Dani’s breath caught. He squeezed her shoulder, trying to appear confident for her sake even as sweat trickled down his ribs.

  The new arrivals paused on the lip of the walkway, long necks stretched as they eyed the river of sewage. Their elongated, flattened heads were covered in virulent green and red scales. Gold, ovoid eyes glittered with the barest flicker of light, revealing slit pupils. Brown robes covered their bodies, unnaturally thin and sinuous, and clawed hands dangled from the sleeves, talons clicking.

  After snuffling around for a minute, the first of the creatures slid head-first into the channel. The others slithered after it with quiet plops, flicking barbed tails before disappearing beneath the surface. After the last one swam off, Ben breathed easier. He remained crouching for a few minutes more, just in case.

  As he waited, Dani put her lips uncomfortably
close to his ear and whispered, “What were those?”

  He leaned away. “Ever heard of alligators in the sewers?”

  “You’re joking.”

  He shrugged and went back to observing the channel for any sign that the creatures remained. “They’re called urmoch. Only good thing is they eat Scum and Cleaners alike. If there’s a nest around, it’d explain why this junction is so quiet. We’re lucky.”

  Her expression showed how much she trusted in luck. After another minute, Ben rose slowly and paced into the chamber, mop at the ready. The urmochs’ musky odor lingered in the air. Fortunately, that seemed the only thing to remain. The pack had likely gone off to hunt down small dogs standing too close to sewer grates.

  Dani emerged from the tunnel after Ben didn’t get eaten right away. She groaned as she stretched her arms and back. “Much further?”

  Ben nodded to the tunnel on their right. “We’re close. Soon as we get outta here, we’re high-tailin’ it to a nice quiet spot where we can take the next steps.”

  “We’re not going back to Headquarters?”

  “Not yet. Destin’ll only get his rear in gear when kicked into action by someone even higher up than him.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Higher? I thought he was in charge of the whole company.”

  “That’s what he likes people to think. But even the Chairman and Board answer to the Pantheon. And that’s who we’re gonna give a call to.”

  “And they are? Give me an answer this time, not a brush-off.”

  Ben eased around the corner, checking to make sure the tunnel he’d chosen stood empty. “Basically, they’re the incarcerations of Purity and Corruption.”

  “You mean incarnations.”

  “Wouldja stop doin’ that? Look, each Pantheon is ruled over by two Primals, with three Petties fillin’ in some of the lesser roles—doin’ the laundry, mowin’ the lawn, that kinda thing. They’re the ones who gave humanity the powers that created the Cleaners … as well as the Scum.”

  “So they’re what? Gods?”

  Ben chuckled darkly. “Some might think so. Destin’s certainly willing to pucker up and plant one on their glowing butts. But there ain’t no religion for ’em and you ain’t gonna ever catch me prayin’ their way. They’re just high-and-mighty pies in the sky who got too much power for their own good. Purity can’t go toe-to-toe with Corruption or vicey-versy without both sides coming up the loser, so that’s where we come in. We bust our humps to maintain the balance. Or just to get a paycheck and live to see tomorrow.” He shrugged. “Whatever perspective you wanna take. There’s plenty of wackos out there who’ll sell you a hundred different things to believe.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Somethin’ I ain’t done in years.” He gave her a rueful grin. “We gotta summon a member of the Pantheon.”

  “Indeed you must. And, while it may be impolite to say so, you look like lost little lambs in this place. Might I provide an escort? Or at least some tea?”

  Ben spun and his light flashed over Sydney, who stood on the walkway ahead of them. He held a saucer and tea cup, from which he sipped an aromatic brew. The mage grinned and bowed even as Ben thrust his mop out like a spear to ward him off. Neither it nor Carl would last long against the entropy-wielder, but it might give Dani time to escape, though her chances of getting through the sewers alone were slim.

  Sydney straightened. “I come to you gloved, offering help, and this is my welcome?” He did indeed wear his leather gloves, along with his tuxedo t-shirt from before, and had added a black cape for, Ben assumed, dramatic effect. The entropy mage took another slurp from his cup and smacked his lips in satisfaction.

  “How’dja get ahead of us?” Ben asked.

  “By coming here and waiting.” Sydney’s smile glinted white, even in the gloom. “How else?”

  “Then who was bustin’ down the gate and golems up top?” Ben thumbed at the ceiling of the tunnel.

  Sydney pursed his lips and pretended to think, then brightened in mock revelation. “Yes! A few friends of mine whom I persuaded to plant mudmen around the premises.” He raised the cup. “Oh, and a scrub-team from HQ, headed up by one Francis Levaigne. Somehow he got an anonymous tip suggesting the old garbage man has been stealing corpses from city morgues and experimenting on them. Such activity is rarely tolerated, so I’ve heard.”

  Ben resisted the urge to look back the way they’d come. “Aww, crap-on-a-stick. Stewart.”

  Sydney’s smile took on a knife edge. “I doubt your associates will be as understanding with him as you’ve been. Let’s hope they don’t kill him outright.”

  Dani clutched Ben’s elbow. “They wouldn’t do that, would they?”

  “Dearest Dani, you have yet to comprehend the ruthlessness the Cleaners possess.” Sydney winked Ben’s way.

  Ben tried to swallow the sour-milk taste coating his tongue. “Whatcha want?”

  Sydney swept the tea cup about without spilling a drop. “Simply to guide you through this place. The urmoch and I have something of an arrangement. They don’t attack me and I don’t wipe out their species. Quite a pleasant folk once you get past the teeth and claws.”

  “Us willingly go with you?” asked Dani.

  “What choice do you have? Fight me here and die, or come with me and live.”

  “And then die after you use us for whatever you got in mind,” Ben said.

  “That is dissimilar to your working for the Cleaners … how?”

  They matched each other in stubborn silence for a long minute. Then Ben grunted and tilted his head at the tunnel behind Sydney.

  “You first. Keep five paces between us and face forward. I’m gonna be followin’ right behind, and the moment you twitch in a way I don’t like, I’m shovin’ this through your spine.” He shook the mop for emphasis.

  Sydney smiled over the edge of his cup. “Actually. I’m enjoying this little chat right here. What say we continue it a bit before we so hastily run ahead?”

  Dani came up beside Ben, scowling with hands on hips. “You just said you were going to guide us out.”

  Sydney’s little laugh grated on Ben’s ears. “Oh, well, it’s embarrassing, really.” He set his cup onto the saucer with a click. “I lied. It was a necessary delay tactic so they could get into position.”

  Hissing figures lunged out of the channel, slopping filthy water. Ben had time enough to see a clawed hand strike Dani on the back of the head. She toppled.

  Then something bony and wet struck his temple, and shadows rushed up to swallow him.

  ***

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dani woke to warm lips brushing her forehead. She tried to jerk away, but something constrained her arms, legs, and torso. Blinking the haze from her eyes, she mentally recoiled from Sydney, who gazed adoringly.

  “Easy,” he murmured. “You’re safe.”

  “Safe?” Her skin burned where he’d kissed. “Do you know how many diseases get transferred orally? Streptococcus. Mononucleosis. Herpes! You think I want to walk around the rest of my life with a cold sore?”

  As he smirked, she looked around, trying to see past his looming face. She lay strapped to a marble platform, twin to the one next to her, on which Ben also lay, uselessly straining against his bonds. Shadows flickered around them, teased into motion by the brass lamp hanging from the ceiling. The room had a single red door. No windows. No vents. A mini-fridge sat humming in one corner.

  Sydney cupped her cheeks in his hands and forced her to look at him. She didn’t know which was worse: the slight dampness of his hands and all the potential bacteria swarming over them, or knowing his touch could turn her to dust with a thought. Either option brought bile to the back of her throat. Instead of kissing her again, he massaged the tender knot on her skull.

  “No permanent damage. I’m sorry for the hard knock, but I doubt you’d have come so quietly otherwise.”

  She swallowed a few times to wet her tongue. “Get your filthy hands of
f me.”

  He chuckled and raised a hand. “I assure you, filth is an element I avoid dabbling in as much as possible. One such benefit of my talent is the ability to annihilate any unwanted organisms on my person. My hands are perfectly sterile.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What are you going to do with us?”

  Stroking her hair, he smiled gently. “Free you, for starters. Just to emphasize that you’ve nothing to fear from me.”

  He dissolved the clasps one at a time and helped ease her off the platform onto wobbly legs. The room tilted for a second, and she clutched the side of the slab until things righted. Sydney held her arm, providing an anchor to her reeling senses. She’d never let herself be touched so much by anyone since she’d first learned to walk on her own.

  Dani looked to Ben, who glared over at them. His mouth had been strapped shut, and his nostrils flared with each breath.

  “Aren’t you going to free him too?”

  A shadow fluttered behind Sydney’s eyes. “I’m merciful, not stupid.”

  Ben growled through his gag. Sydney released Dani and went over to remove the strap so Ben could speak.

  “Beg your pardon?” he asked. “Do recount the various threats you’ve no doubt been compiling in that gray lump of a brain you have. I could use a laugh.”

  Ben spat at Sydney, but the entropy mage blocked the spittle with one hand, and the missile vanished on contact.

  “You bat rastard,” Ben rasped.

  Sydney affected a swoon, back of a hand to his forehead. “Oh! He mocks my parentage. Truly, I am wounded.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s one of the few insults Francis hasn’t added to the foul-filter yet.”

  “And how is Francis these days?” Sydney asked. “Still pretending his shit smells of cinnamon and cloves?”

  “Why’d you bring us here?” Dani asked. She fought the temptation to jump on Sydney’s back and try to drive him to the floor. For all his fluttering and amorous attentions, she didn’t doubt he kept ready to incapacitate her with a touch the moment she turned violent or tried to flee.

  “Three answers to that,” he said. “Foremost, I’ve brought the janitor here to help me in a particularly sensitive ritual. Second, I brought you here to see if you’re willing to reconsider my offer. Third, because I knew you’d still refuse, I brought you here to reveal a truth.”