Strike of the Sweepers

by Tyler Whitesides

  Spencer’s eyes were huge, his mouth dangling half open. “Since when do you know how to drive?” he finally managed.

  Daisy shrugged. “My dad’s a car mechanic and I grew up in Idaho.” She swallowed hard. “But I’m not very good. And my dad said I should never drive unless he’s in the car with me.”

  “Just pretend I’m your dad,” Spencer said.

  Daisy shook her head. “No. That’s just weird.”

  Dez was suddenly flapping alongside the garbage truck. “Roll down the window!” he yelled. “Let me in!”

  “Keep driving!” Spencer said to Daisy. “We’ve got to find the freeway and get back to Welcher.” He slid across the cab and rolled down the side window. Dez reached out and pulled himself in. He didn’t look comfortable, bent in half, with his wings flapping behind him like flags in the wind.

  Once Dez was inside the truck, Spencer shoved him into the middle seat and rolled up the window just as a wet Grime tongue splatted against the glass.

  “Hey,” Dez commented, “I didn’t know Daisy was driving! From the outside you look like an old man.”

  “Don’t bother her, Dez,” Spencer defended. “She’s trying to concentrate.”

  “I was being serious,” answered the bully. “There’s something different about the glass. It makes the driver look like an old dude. Must be an octopus illusion.”

  “Optical illusion,” Spencer corrected.

  Dez shot him a glare. “That’s what I said.”

  “At least I won’t get arrested,” Daisy said. “No wonder the Aurans never get caught. They’ve been driving these trucks for decades, and everyone thinks it’s an old man behind the wheel.”

  Daisy blew past a stop sign without even yielding. “Did we lose the Pluggers?” Spencer asked.

  “I took out a Grime and a Rubbish,” Dez bragged. “The others are probably too scared to come after us.”

  Just then a Plugger on Filthback pounced into the road. A dustpan shield was in his hand, and a pushbroom was leveled to launch the garbage truck into the air.

  Chapter 27

  “We’re doomed.”

  Daisy screamed and threw her hands up. Dez reached over and jerked on the wheel. Big Bertha missed the Plugger by mere inches, hopping over a curb and smashing a fire hydrant. A geyser of water erupted, dousing the windshield and causing the Filth to rear back.

  Daisy was back in control, with both hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “I can’t see a thing!” she screamed. Water was streaming down the flat windshield, making everything look distorted as they barreled blindly down the street.

  “Use the wipers!” Spencer said.

  Daisy flicked a little stick beside the wheel, but instead of the windshield wipers, she activated the right-turn signal.

  “That’s not it,” Dez said. He leaned across her and twisted something. The headlights turned off, leaving them driving with what little light the dawn was providing.

  “Just stop for a second!” Spencer shouted. Daisy slammed on the brakes. The Pluggers would surely catch up, but it was better than driving blind.

  Spencer yanked open the glove compartment and drew back in disgust. Besides the gag-worthy smell, there were several fuzzy lumps that appeared to have once been muffins. Spencer didn’t know if Bernard had forgotten about them, or if the garbologist was performing some weird experiment.

  In addition to the moldy muffins and a crinkly road map, Spencer saw Holga and the bronze nail they had stolen from Garcia. But what he was looking for was buried under some tissues in the very back of the glove compartment. It was an operator’s manual.

  Spencer gathered his courage, held his breath in case of deadly spores, and reached into the glove compartment. He pulled the operator’s manual free and slammed the compartment door, shutting away the nasty muffins.

  “We’re doomed,” Daisy muttered. “We’ll never make it back to Welcher. We can’t even figure out how to use the windshield wipers!”

  Spencer found what they needed in the index. He flipped to the page, looked at the diagram, and then leaned across the cab and turned on the windshield wipers.

  Spencer held up the operator’s manual in victory. There was a thump on top of the cab that caused all three kids to look up instinctively. In the next second, the huge face of an Extension Grime was creeping down Daisy’s side window, tongue probing for a way in.

  Daisy stepped on the gas pedal, and the truck lurched forward. But the Grime’s sticky hands held tight.

  They made their way out of the neighborhood and onto a larger street. Spencer saw the Grime’s throat begin to pulse outside Daisy’s window. He saw the skin stretch like a bullfrog as the mouth began to fill with acidic slime.

  “Faster, Daisy!” Spencer yelled. “You’ve got to throw this guy!”

  “I’m just following the speed limit,” she said. “The sign said 25 mph! I don’t want to get a ticket!”

  “And I don’t want to get dead!” shouted Dez. He leaned over and pushed on Daisy’s leg, causing her foot to bear down on the gas pedal.

  The Grime spewed its venomous load onto Daisy’s window. Spencer smelled the burning acid as the slime oozed down the glass. Then the Grime’s tongue was back at it, working to find a way into the cab.

  Daisy suddenly giggled. “Sometimes,” she said, “if the mood is just right, I think those red lights look like eyeballs.”

  Spencer didn’t know what red lights she was talking about until he looked out the windshield again. Just yards ahead, a stoplight had turned red. Cross traffic was moving through the intersection, cars full of tired people with early-morning jobs.

  “Let go of her leg, Dez,” Spencer said. “We have to stop.”

  “I’m not pushing her anymore,” Dez answered. He held up his hands to prove his innocence.

  Daisy seemed deep in thought. “Why are street signs always so negative? I mean, that one says, ‘no right turn.’ It would be a lot nicer if it said, ‘you may go straight or turn left.’”

  “It’s the Grime breath,” Spencer realized. The venom must have weakened the glass enough for a brainwave-numbing draft to get through. “She’s a distracted driver!”

  He clipped out his vanilla air freshener and released a long spray in Daisy’s direction. She blinked hard, and then Spencer saw the danger register on her face.

  “RED LIGHT!” she screamed, and she slammed hard on the brake.

  Big Bertha skidded to a halt, the nose of the garbage truck jutting into the intersection, barely missing the cross traffic. There was a chorus of honking, and the Extension Grime flew off the roof. The Plugger hit the stoplight and launched from the saddle. His extension cord became entangled on the overhead traffic light, and he dangled there, unconscious. The impact unplugged the Grime, and it moved fluidly through the intersection and out of sight.

  Spencer glanced in his side mirror. “Two Pluggers on Filths closing fast.”

  “There’s still one Rubbish out there too,” Dez added. Spencer didn’t question him. It took one to know one.

  The traffic light turned green and Daisy drove through, leaving the intersection in a chaotic mess of fender benders, with a random guy dangling by an extension cord from the traffic light.

  “Phew,” Daisy said. “That was a close one.”

  The sound of a police siren wailed out from behind the garbage truck. Spencer checked his mirror again, noticing a patrol car pulling up tight to Big Bertha’s rear bumper.

  “I hate it when this happens,” Dez muttered. Spencer didn’t want to know what previous experiences Dez had had with the police. Daisy had tears in her eyes as she began to slow down.

  “What are you doing?” Spencer asked her. They couldn’t stop now, no matter who was trying to pull them over.

  Daisy glanced at Spencer. “Will you visit me in jail?” she asked.

  “You’re not going to jail,” Spencer said. “The Aurans must have had a way of dealing with this.”

  He turned back to th
e operator’s manual, thumbing through pages until he found a section titled, “Frequently Asked Questions.” He had to find an answer before Daisy’s resolve wore out and she surrendered.

  “Here!” he said, his finger tracing a line in the manual. He read aloud. “What do I do if the police try to pull me over?” He cleared his throat and read the answer. “The Glopified Garbage Truck 2.0 has a special feature that should prevent anyone from following you unwanted. Simply tap the brake three times quickly. The truck’s Glopified brake lights will confuse the driver of the vehicle behind you, making them unable to remember why they were following you in the first place. The pursuer should depart quickly.”

  Spencer looked up from the operator’s manual. “Tap the brakes!” he said.

  “Already did,” answered Daisy. Behind them, the police car turned off its siren and lights and veered away onto a side street.

  “I got to get me one of these,” Dez said, patting the dashboard.

  “Too bad it won’t shake the Pluggers,” Spencer said. “They’re gaining on us.”

  “Hey,” Dez said, “that’s the freeway! Take a right.” Dez pulled on the steering wheel again. They squealed around a corner going way too fast. Narrowly missing a guardrail, they merged onto a northbound freeway.

  “Faster, Daisy!” Dez demanded. “Let’s see if those Pluggers can keep up with us now!”

  But even at 65 miles per hour, the Pluggers were catching up. Spencer watched the creatures come, leaping and bounding past slower cars on the freeway, beast and rider invisible to everyone but the kids in the garbage truck.

  “I should just fly out there and take them down,” Dez said.

  “We’re going too fast,” Spencer said. “If you jump out of this truck, it’ll probably rip your wings off.”

  “You got a better idea?” Dez said. One of the Extension Filths had caught up to them. The Plugger on its back urged the beast forward, and the kids heard the quills scrape into Big Bertha.

  “There’s got to be something . . .” Spencer muttered as he thumbed through the table of contents. “Chapter 8,” he said. “Offensive and Defensive Capabilities of the Glopified Garbage Truck 2.0.”

  Spencer turned to the page, annoyed that Dez kept coaching him to read faster. Spencer skimmed down the page, mumbling and skipping portions as he looked for something that might help them in their current predicament.

  “The Glopified Garbage Truck 2.0 is equipped with various defensive capabilities that should prevent you from crashing. The entire shell of the vehicle is heavily reinforced and armored, with shatterproof glass and puncture-proof tires. The front and rear bumpers are Glopified to minimize damage. In the unlikely event that the truck should become totaled and can no longer function, a self-destruct button is located under the driver’s seat. Detonate the truck and leave no evidence behind.”

  Dez tried to reach under Daisy’s seat.

  “What are you doing?” she yelled. “Do you know what self-destruct means?”

  “Chill,” Dez said, withdrawing his hand quickly. “I just wanted to check if it was really there.”

  “Here we go!” Spencer said, reading again. “The Glopified Garbage Truck 2.0 is equipped with four trashcannons, two on each side of the vehicle.”

  “Whoa!” Dez said. “Trashcannons?”

  Spencer read quickly. “To arm the trashcannons, the rear of the truck must be loaded with garbage.”

  “Got that,” Dez said. “I had to ride in it last time.”

  “Disengage the safety by flipping a small switch below the steering console.”

  Dez shouldered up against Daisy, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. As soon as he flipped the switch, Spencer heard the trashcannons prepping for action. He glanced in the side mirror. Two ports had opened on the side of the garbage truck. He could see the rims of two metal trash cans resting in the openings like cannons on a pirate ship.

  Spencer turned back to the operator’s manual. “The trashcannons are now ready to be fired. Simply press the numbered red buttons to release a slug of high-powered garbage.”

  Spencer hadn’t even finished reading when Dez’s hooked finger slammed down on the third button. There was a deafening boom, and Big Bertha shuddered. The rear trashcannon on Spencer’s side exploded, releasing a missile of compressed trash with unbelievable force.

  The Plugger on the Filth didn’t stand a chance. His mount was instantly blown to dust, and he was sent skidding and rolling off the side of the freeway.

  “Eat trash!” Dez yelled. The second Filth Plugger pulled back, trying to devise a strategy that wouldn’t include getting major road rash.

  “Slow down,” Dez said to Daisy. “Get us in range.”

  She let off the gas, and Big Bertha quickly slowed. The Filth rider tried to adjust his belt, scrambling with the dial on his battery pack, but the beast was too eager for a fight.

  “Almost there,” Dez said, watching out the window. “Turn to the left a bit.”

  Daisy changed lanes rather sharply, and while the truck was angled, Dez fired the front trashcannon on Daisy’s side.

  It was a distance shot, and Spencer wasn’t sure if it would hit. The garbage slug flew at the Filth Plugger, bits of high-powered trash breaking apart like buckshot. The Extension Filth went down under the hailstorm, throwing its rider and severing the cord.

  “Haha!” Dez shouted. “Just like a video game!” Spencer thought he was having way too much fun with this.

  “One more to go,” Spencer said.

  “I’m guessing that guy on the Rubbish is somewhere above us,” said Dez.

  “Out of range.”

  “Yeah,” Dez mused. “We need to draw him down to our level.” He shoved past Spencer and rolled down the side window. Spencer squinted his face against the sudden strong wind.

  “What are you doing?” Spencer shouted.

  “We need bait!” Dez reached out and grabbed Spencer by the shoulder, his talon fingers digging painfully. With one swift motion, he hefted Spencer up and shoved him out the window.

  Spencer thought he was dead. He waited to hit the road and tumble to a painful end. But instead, he dangled there beside the window, Dez holding him easily at arm’s length.

  “Are you out of your mind!” Spencer yelled. He couldn’t look down; the road rushing past below him made him feel sick. Daisy screamed and let off the gas when she realized what Dez was doing.

  The Sweeper kid turned back to her. “Keep driving, Gullible Gates!” he threatened. “Hit the gas, or I drop him.”

  Big Bertha lurched forward again as Daisy began to accelerate. Dez shouted out to Spencer, “You should probably kick and squirm a little more. You’re the bait! You have to look alive!”

  Spencer had been trying desperately not to squirm, since wriggling out of Dez’s grip would likely cost him his life. “Pull me in, Dez! This is crazy! Pull me in right now!”

  “Take it easy,” Dez said. He turned his beaky nose to the air and drew in a long sniff. “That Rubbish is close; I can smell it.”

  “He’s close, all right,” Spencer said. He could see the Rubbish directly overhead, keeping pace with the garbage truck. “But he’s not going to take the bait. That Plugger just saw two of his friends get blasted. He’s not coming down.”

  Dez grunted and pulled Spencer back into the cab. “Well,” he said, “it was worth a try.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Spencer said, strapping on his seat belt. He sucked in deep breaths of air to steady himself. “It was not worth it! You just dangled me out the window like—”

  “Hang on!” Daisy yelled. “I’ve got an idea.”

  All of a sudden, they were four-wheeling off the edge of the freeway and up a steep embankment with a high retaining wall. Big Bertha chugged and jolted. Then Daisy turned the wheel so sharply that two tires came off the ground.

  Spencer thought for sure they would roll down the embankment and land upside down on the freeway. But then, just as
they’d done on the wall of New Forest Academy, Big Bertha’s tires adhered to the concrete retaining wall. They were driving sideways, with the two trashcannons on Spencer’s side pointed straight into the air.

  Dez brought his fists down on both buttons at the same time, rocking Big Bertha with a tremendous boom! The garbage projectiles shot straight into the air, taking the overhead Rubbish and its Plugger by complete surprise.

  The big bird was coming down, its wings shot to tatters. Just before the creature dissolved, the Plugger leapt from the saddle, tapping a broom and soaring out of sight.

  Big Bertha came off the retaining wall, its tires finding new purchase where the steep embankment rose. The truck bumped back to the freeway and merged alongside a few stunned drivers.

  Daisy flipped the safety switch under the steering console, and the trashcannons powered down, folding out of sight. The ports closed, and Big Bertha returned to looking as normal as she could.

  They drove in silence for a moment before Daisy finally said what all of them were thinking. “Does anybody know how to get back to Welcher?”

  Chapter 28

  “Good times, good times.”

  Spencer woke up in the parking lot of Welcher Elementary School, appalled to find Dez Rylie behind the steering wheel and Daisy asleep in the seat beside him.

  “What happened?” Spencer said, his voice accusatory as he sat up straight. “Did you green-spray Daisy so you could drive?”

  “Relax,” Dez said. “She was getting drowsy behind the wheel, so she let me take over.”

  “How long was I asleep?” Spencer didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t remember drifting off.

  Dez shrugged. “Maybe five or six hours.” He pointed his hooked fingers out the window. “We’re home now.”

  Five or six hours? “Why didn’t you get tired?” Spencer asked.