“We’ll stick to our usual daily maintenance routes,” Walter explained. “I’ll take Daisy with me to do the center hallway and the library. Marv, you take Spencer to the north hallway and the gym. Whoever finishes first will come back to work the entry hallway and cafeteria. But be careful—I think Principal Poach is still in the building.” Walter checked his watch. “Meet back here in forty-five minutes. Try to catch one of each kind—for instructional purposes.” He hefted his pushbroom like a rifle. “Let’s hunt.”
Spencer waved to Daisy and followed Marv down the hallway. The “out of order” sign was gone from the boys’ bathroom. The nail wasn’t in the wall anymore, so there was no reason to keep the bathroom closed. Marv plugged his vacuum into an outlet next to the door.
“We’ll start here,” Marv said. “I’ll kick open the door and you run inside. If there’s a Grime in there, it’ll probably bolt, so you’ve got to be fast.” Spencer nodded to show that he understood.
Marv fired up his vacuum and tilted it so he could race it forward on the back wheels like a chariot. Then he stepped forward and gave the bathroom door a big kick. The door swung inward, testing the strength of its hinges.
In a flash, Spencer was inside. Just as Marv had suspected, there was a Grime perched on the edge of the sink. Spencer swiped for the slimy creature with his broom. The pokey bristles raked down the Grime’s back and the salamander creature fell to the floor. Spencer wielded the broom around like an axe and came down for a fatal chop. His broom hit the floor hard.
But the Grime was gone.
The force of impact sent the broom rocketing to the ceiling, Spencer flying alongside. Below, the Grime slithered toward the floor drain. But escape was blocked, as Marv’s upright vacuum dropped over the drain, eagerly sucking.
Without stopping, the Grime redirected. Spencer was pinned to the ceiling, the broom still straining upward. Taking a deep breath, Spencer let go of the broom. Gravity returned instantly and he dropped heavily and crumpled to his knees on the tile.
“The toilet!” Marv shouted, pulling a suction hose from the side of his vacuum.
Spencer recovered and leapt for the open stall door. The Grime was climbing the side of the toilet bowl, bulbous fingertips like suction cups on the slick surface.
Spencer’s broom had dislodged from the bathroom ceiling and was floating down. But there was no time to go for it. Hastily, the boy opened his Ziploc bag and gathered a small fistful of charged vac dust.
The Grime was on the toilet seat when Spencer’s dust hit from behind. The suction sound filled the resonant bathroom and the force of the vac dust sucked the creature off the rim. The Grime fell with a splash into the water, the force pinning it below the surface.
“Grab it!” Marv shouted, leaving his vacuum and racing toward the stall.
Spencer stared into the toilet at the immobile Grime. Maybe with a long pair of gloves, Spencer would brave reaching into the toilet . . . but bare-handed?
The vacuum dust wouldn’t hold much longer. Spencer reached out his hand and then drew back, unable.
The Grime recovered in a moment and took one stroke toward the back of the toilet. The moment before it vanished down the hole, Marv’s bare hand plunged into the depths. He seized the Grime by the tail and flung it to the floor.
The Grime bounced and flopped like a fish on dry land. In a moment it was on its feet again, but a moment was all Marv needed. The vacuum wheels raced forward and the churning, spinning underpinnings of the vacuum closed down on the Grime.
There was a splattering of pale yellow slime. The vacuum sucked harder, seeming to choke on something. Then the machine swallowed and there was nothing.
Marv turned the vacuum off and silence filled the bathroom. Spencer slowly picked up his broom, aware that Marv was glaring at him.
“Why didn’t you grab it?” the big janitor asked as they exited the bathroom. “Almost got away.”
“I just . . . froze,” Spencer answered apologetically. “Maybe the Grime breath confused me.” Or maybe, thought Spencer, I just couldn’t stick my hand into the toilet.
They walked silently into the hall. Marv unlocked a set of gym doors. “I set a full garbage bin in the corner of the gym after lunch. It should have attracted a Rubbish or two by now.”
And sure enough, two Rubbishes were frolicking in the trash. Their beaks snipped at each other playfully and they dove deeper into the bin to see who could surface with the greatest treasure.
Marv slowly worked his way to an outlet on the wall. He plugged in his vacuum but didn’t turn it on. Spencer crept up beside him.
“The best way,” Marv whispered, “is for you to stay up in the air. If you can make a ruckus above them, chances are they’ll come low where I can get them with my vacuum.”
“You ready?” Spencer asked. Marv nodded, his finger hovering above the vacuum’s on switch. Spencer moved away from the wall. He took two running steps in the direction of the garbage and dropped his broom bristles heavily to the floor.
Spencer lifted off at an angle, racing through the air. The Rubbishes spotted him, and the garbage-bin fun stopped immediately. Their vulture-like heads perked up and their leathery bat wings flexed.
Hanging tight to the broom handle, Spencer slammed into the wall above the garbage bin. The proximity made the Rubbishes skittish; one took off, flying low. Marv sprinted in that direction, vacuum wheels turning at maximum speed.
Spencer descended slowly along the wall. In a moment, the Rubbish hiding in the garbage would have a free path upward. Twisting his body around, Spencer tapped the broom bristles against the wall. The opposite reaction sent him gliding sideways across the gym. The Rubbish waited, ruffled its wings, and took flight as Spencer drifted away.
In a moment, Spencer seized an exit sign above the door and pulled himself back to the wall, still clinging to the broom with one hand.
“Got one!” Marv shouted from the center of the gym.
Seeing the last Rubbish escaping higher, Spencer kicked off the exit sign, slamming his broom against the wall at the last minute. The new burst of energy sent him shooting toward the flying Rubbish. One-handed, Spencer scrambled with the little bag of vac dust. Mimicking the widespread palm blast that Walter had taught them, Spencer hurled the dust.
A puff of dark dust billowed out of his hand like a mushroom cloud. The Rubbish was caught in the burst, its wings buckling under the suction. Marv was in position as the creature plummeted to the gym floor.
Spencer, still dangling one-handed from the broom, suddenly realized his mistake. Unable to change his broom’s course, Spencer flew straight into the residual dust cloud. The deafening sound of rushing air filled his ears as the vacuum dust fought to bring down the broom. The gravity-defying broom strained upward while Spencer’s body was caught in the suction of the vac dust.
Spencer’s fingers slipped and he plummeted toward the gym floor. He tried to brace for impact, deaf to all noise except the rushing vac dust. Then, to Spencer’s great surprise, he landed on something soft.
Marv.
The bulky janitor wrapped his arms around Spencer, but the downward force was too strong. Marv was flattened on his back with Spencer pinned to his chest. They were stuck for only a moment before the suction from the vac dust suddenly ended.
Spencer rolled aside, moaning. The sound of rushing air was replaced by Marv’s idling vacuum.
“You get him?” Spencer gasped, still lying on the floor. Overhead, he watched his broom descend.
“Got you instead.” Marv grunted, standing up. “The second Rubbish got away.”
“Sorry,” Spencer apologized. “I guess I’m not too good at Toxite hunting.”
Marv turned off the vacuum and jerked on the cord to unplug his machine. “Look, you’re just a beginner.” But Marv’s tone agreed with Spencer
’s failure.
“What now?” Spencer stood up and retrieved his broom from the air.
“Quiet!” Marv hissed. A dusty Filth had just waddled under the door and entered the gym.
“All right,” Marv said, “here’s what we’ll do. You go around the side and come at it from the left. I’ll get my vacuum plugged in and—” Marv never got to finish.
The gym door flew open and the Filth scurried out of sight. Spencer clutched his broom like a weapon as two figures raced into the gym.
One of them was Garth Hadley.
Chapter 30
“Get away from him!”
As soon as the intruders burst into the room, Marv acted. Tearing open the papery bag on his vacuum, the burly janitor grabbed two fistfuls of charged vac dust, doubling the amount in his Ziploc bag. Marv abandoned the upright vacuum and sprinted to Spencer’s side in two floor-shaking steps.
Suddenly, the power went out, plunging the gym into darkness. Two flashlights flicked on. One cast a normal beam that swept across the gym in search of Spencer and Marv. But the flashlight in Garth Hadley’s hand cast a white beam that shifted erratically from Spencer’s broom to Marv’s fistfuls of vac dust and over to the abandoned vacuum.
No doubt about it. Hadley was looking for the bronze nail.
Spencer’s eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. Garth Hadley and his companion, a skinny man with a pointy nose, fanned out to block the gym exits as they moved steadily forward. Each wore a latex glove that Spencer knew was charged. Aside from the flashlight, Garth was toting a mop with a long handle. He held it behind his flashlight so it wouldn’t attract the beam.
“Back up,” Marv whispered. “Keep heading for the back wall. There is an emergency exit in the northeast corner. Go!”
Marv leapt forward, growling like a grizzly. The two intruders were too far apart for him to attack them both simultaneously, so Marv went for Hadley.
The BEM rep saw him coming, pulled back his mop, and cast the dirty white mop strings flinging in Marv’s direction. Just before the mop reached its target, Marv released a puff of vacuum dust. Suction filled the room. The vac dust had just enough strength to knock Hadley’s mop off target.
The mop strings dropped and Marv hurdled them like an overweight track star. The second fistful of vac dust, expertly delivered with a funnel throw, struck Hadley in the chest. The strong man shouted and crumpled to his knees. Hadley’s clothes were stretched tight against his skin from the downward suction.
Spencer kicked open the emergency exit, flooding the gym with late afternoon sunlight. But the exit was suddenly blocked by a fat man with a broom in his hands. Spencer reeled backward into the gym, noticing the skinny man setting an intercept course. There was nowhere to go but up.
Spencer hit the bristles of his broom against the gym floor, feeling the jerk of the wood in his hands and the unique weightlessness as he lifted. Then the broom shuddered under new weight. The skinny man had seized Spencer’s rising ankle, and the broom was struggling to lift them both. The other man charged inside from the emergency exit, pulling a handful of dust from his pocket.
“Ghhhaaaar!” Marv bellowed, pounding into the rising skinny man and sending him sprawling across the gym floor. Spencer shot upward like a helium balloon with its string cut. Glancing down, he saw the fat man from the emergency exit immobilizing Marv with a taste of his own medicine. Across the room, Garth Hadley was recovering. All eyes went upward to the floating boy.
Spencer made contact with the high gym ceiling a little harder than he’d hoped. Below, the three men gathered like vultures to await his inevitable descent. But what if he didn’t descend?
Not far away was a basketball hoop hooked into the ceiling with cables. During P.E., the teacher lowered the hoop so the kids could play. The rest of the time, it was folded up against the ceiling. The perfect place.
Still plastered against the ceiling and holding tight to the broom, Spencer used his feet to scrape along, sliding in the direction of the hoop. He was almost there when he felt the broom begin to descend. Kicking off the ceiling, Spencer drifted the last few feet and caught the edge of the backboard. He positioned his legs through the hoop like a very uncomfortable chair, still holding tight to his broom as it became heavy in his hands again.
Below, the BEM workers began mumbling and cursing. The skinny man had his flashlight trained on Spencer. Garth Hadley cast with his mop, the strings lengthening and stretching upward. The cast fell short . . . but not by much. Hadley flicked the mop again. This time, Spencer had to pull his feet up as the hungry mop strings threatened to entangle him and drag him from his perch.
“Get away from him!” Marv cried from behind. In their hopes to reach Spencer, they had left the big janitor unguarded. Marv had recovered from the suction dust and had a trick of his own.
Before anyone could move, Marv used the thumb shot, flicking out tufts of dust like a professional marbles player. The well-aimed dust struck the fat man and the skinny man, bringing them to their faces on the gym floor. The third puff missed Garth Hadley, who countered with an attack from his mop. The strings wrapped around Marv’s big belly, tying both arms to his sides and tipping him off balance. The mop retracted, dragging Marv to rest at Hadley’s feet.
Spencer knew he had to get away while commotion reigned below. Positioning himself to kick off the hoop, Spencer tapped his broom against the backboard. The boy leapt from his perch, using the gentle tap from the broom to cross the room and descend at the gym door. He touched the floor, his broom still floating beside him. Without looking back for Marv, Spencer ran into the hall.
He dashed toward the middle hallway. The most important thing was to warn Walter so the warlock could get away with the bronze nail. Spencer stopped at an intersection in the hallway.
To his right were the library’s double doors, closed tight. To his left was the middle hallway, with Mrs. Natcher’s classroom at the end. Daylight was shining through the exit doors by Mrs. Natcher’s room, and Spencer saw the silhouettes of four fighting figures. Grunts and shouts echoed down the middle hallway.
Spencer saw Walter pressing hard to get past three new BEM workers blocking the way. His pushbroom was broken, the handle snapped in half. Spencer scanned the area. Where was Daisy? Wasn’t she supposed to be with Walter?
At the sound of running footfalls, Spencer whirled around. Garth Hadley was charging down the hall. Spencer seemed frozen to the carpet. There were too many BEM workers. They’d never get away!
With a shout, Walter leapt for the doorway, but mop strings tangled him just like they had Marv. The warlock slammed against the wall and slumped to the carpet.
Spencer dropped his broom and ran—not left or right, but straight ahead. He needed to find Daisy. He needed to find a hiding spot in the dark school. He needed to run . . . faster!
Chapter 31
“I wish you’d just call me Sarah.”
Spencer rounded the corner and sprinted toward the front doors of the school. But what good was escaping? Marv and Walter had fallen and Spencer needed to help before the BEM hauled them away.
Spencer reeled back as he passed the principal’s office. There was a light on—a flashlight or a candle, maybe, since the power was still out.
Spencer had sworn he would never enter Principal Poach’s office again. But this was different. Poach could call the cops and they could stop the janitornapping that was happening in the middle hall. Besides, it was a great hiding spot since Garth Hadley wouldn’t follow him into the occupied office.
Ducking quickly through the first doorway, Spencer found himself in the waiting area where he and Daisy had once sat on a bench with Baybee. He was reaching for the principal’s doorknob when he heard voices floating out of the office.
“Not a problem at all,” Poach’s nasal voice squeaked. “I’m just sorry about this po
wer outage.”
“I don’t mind,” answered a feminine voice. “I know it wasn’t a convenient time for an interview, but thanks for letting me in.”
Spencer stopped. Letting me in? Through the wavy glass of the office door, he could see only vague outlines and flickering shadows. But whoever was inside the office was about to come out.
It was time to hide.
Spencer crossed the waiting area and threw himself under a computer desk. Pressing his face against the ground, he could see only shoes as the principal’s door opened.
A pair of high heels clicked across the floor and paused. A waft of flowery perfume drifted under the desk, reminding Spencer of someone. He just couldn’t think who.
Poach’s walrus shoes waddled forward. “You are an excellent candidate. Unfortunately, we’re not looking to hire right now.”
“I understand,” the woman said.
“Mrs. Bently—” he started.
“Please,” the woman interrupted, “I wish you’d just call me Sarah.”
“Sarah,” Poach restarted. “You’ll be the first to know if anything opens up. I was very . . . impressed.”
“Thanks for your time,” the sultry voice answered. Then the high heels clicked away.
Spencer didn’t dare move. He watched Poach’s brown shoes shuffle back into the office. The heavy man sighed, and Spencer heard him gathering papers. Just then, the power returned. Overhead, Spencer felt the computer shudder back to life on the desk. The walrus principal made a contented sound, followed by a little chuckle.
Five minutes later, the principal’s shoes reappeared. The office door pulled closed and the man waddled away.
Spencer waited another painstakingly long five minutes before crawling out of his hiding spot. Cautiously, he peeked into the entry hallway. There was no one in sight. The front of the school appeared totally deserted.
Just in case, Spencer opened his Ziploc bag and pinched out the remaining vac dust. His hand was sweaty and the dirty fibers clung to his palm. He wondered how that might affect his toss.
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