Spencer had wondered how Garcia had managed to escape the dumpster. He’d seen the director in visions enough times to know that he was back at New Forest Academy, overseeing the education of his handpicked elite students.
“The Windex will temporarily turn anything to glass,” said Penny. “Once the spray dries, the surface will return to its original material.”
She hooked the spray bottle back into the belt and withdrew one more item from the nylon loops. It wasn’t a plastic spray bottle, like the others. This one was a slender aerosol can.
“Air freshener,” Penny said. “Vanilla scented.” She held out the can for everyone to see. “Uncle Walter made this for the kids.”
“Really?” Daisy said. “I didn’t think we were that stinky.” She lifted her arm and gave a sniff.
“Not for your smell,” Penny said with a grin. “For your minds.”
“You think our minds need freshening?” Spencer asked.
Walter finally cut in. “The air freshener will temporarily counteract the effects of Toxite breath. If you kids are going to fight alongside us, then we can’t have you getting distracted, falling asleep, and losing interest. A quick spritz of air freshener will help you stay focused in the middle of battle.”
“Thanks,” Spencer said to the warlock. Since adults weren’t affected by Toxite breath, the air freshener was truly an invention just for Spencer and Daisy.
“With the BEM Pluggers riding those giant Extension Toxites,” Penny said, “we’ll need all the weaponry we can carry.” She pointed to a row of belts on the wall. There was one for everybody, and each belt was heavily loaded and ready for use.
“The Extension Toxites are tough,” Penny said, “but they have a weakness. The Pluggers control the beasts with battery packs and extension cords. Cut the cord and the Toxites go free.”
“Free is good?” Bernard asked.
“We got an Extension Rubbish to turn on its rider,” Penny explained. “Cut the creatures free and they don’t know BEM from Rebel. They just want to kill.”
“I think we can stay ahead of the Pluggers,” Alan said. “It’s been over twenty-four hours since we’ve seen them. Alsbury High School isn’t a Rebel school, so they have no idea where we’re headed next.”
“Good point,” Walter said. “If we keep up our momentum, we have a better chance at shaking them off our trail forever.”
There were nods of agreement around the table, and Spencer knew it was time to break the news. “We can’t shake them,” he finally said. Everyone turned to him, curious about his sudden pessimism.
“The reason we haven’t seen the Pluggers for a while is because they stopped by New Forest Academy,” Spencer said. “Mr. Clean is outfitting the Extension Toxites for war.”
“What does that mean?” Daisy asked. “What kind of outfits do Toxites wear?”
“I don’t want to find out,” said Bernard. “If we hit the road soon, those Pluggers will never find us. They’re a day behind and two states over.”
“It doesn’t matter how far behind they are. Believe me,” Spencer looked at his dad. “They’re coming.”
“How can you say that?” Alan asked. “You don’t know for sure . . .”
“It’s you, Dad.” Spencer cut him off. “You’re leading the Pluggers right to us.”
“Now, wait a minute!” Alan leaned across the table. “Are you accusing me of treason? You think I’m telling the Pluggers where to find us?”
“You might as well!” Spencer said. Old anger about his dad’s absence was resurfacing, and for once, Spencer decided to let it flow. “Being with you puts all of us in danger!”
“Oh?” Alan stood up. “Is that what you think? Since you seem to have all the answers, why don’t you lead the mission?”
“Okay!” Spencer shouted. “We’ll start by fixing Bernard’s garbage truck. We’ll start by listening to other people’s ideas.”
Walter reached out and grabbed Spencer’s arm. The contact reminded Spencer that he and his father were not alone in the room.
“Why do you think your dad is leading the Pluggers to us?” Penny asked.
Spencer took a deep breath. “Leslie’s Filth is baited.” He relaxed his fists. “Mr. Clean had a scrap of my dad’s shirt, and he fed it to the Extension Filth. Now it’s tracking us and it won’t stop until it finds him.” Spencer pointed at his dad.
Alan ran a hand through his beard in momentary thought. Then he pushed back his chair and headed for the door.
“Where you going?” Bernard asked.
Alan paused at the threshold. “Spencer’s right. If the Pluggers have my scent, then it’s too dangerous for me to stay with you. I can lead them away from Alsbury High School and give you a better chance of finding the map.”
“This is lunacy!” Walter shouted. “We can’t send you out there alone with a pack of overgrown Toxites on your trail!”
“I’ll go with him,” Penny said, tightening the strap on her janitorial belt.
“We stay together!” Walter insisted.
Alan put his hands into his pockets. “Let Spencer decide,” he said. “What do you say, Son? Do I stay or go?”
Emotion tightened Spencer’s throat as he stared across the room. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He and his dad were supposed to be sharing grand adventures, not bickering and threatening. It wasn’t a question, really. Spencer knew he could never send his dad off to be hunted by the Pluggers.
“You stay with us.”
Bernard leaned forward and whispered urgently, “But we’re going to fix the garbage truck.”
Spencer nodded. “But we’re going to fix the garbage truck.”
Chapter 21
“A paint spill.”
It was well past midnight when the garbage truck pulled into the parking lot of Alsbury High School. Repairing Bernard’s vehicle had taken longer than anticipated, and the rest of the day was lost in travel to Austin, Texas.
The cab was crowded and uncomfortable with all six team members. And despite the car fresheners dangling from the mirror, the vehicle now smelled like onions from their late-night dinner from a food truck.
Bernard had dug through his steel briefcases of strange trash collections. He had a whole assortment of jewelry that he’d recovered from the garbage. A thin gold chain fit perfectly through the tiny dispenser key, and Alan had it hanging safely around his neck.
Bernard parked the garbage truck next to a dumpster. The headlights turned off, plunging the parking area into darkness. The school looked very old, the main entrance framed in a weathered stone archway. A twenty-four-hour security light flickered above the front doors, giving the whole place the appearance of a haunted mansion rather than a high school.
Penny popped open the truck door, and everyone filed outside. The weather was strange to Spencer. They had traveled far enough south that the air seemed unseasonably warm. It was like winter was behind them. Spencer didn’t even need a jacket.
“What’s the plan?” Spencer asked as everyone started gearing up.
“Simple,” said Alan. “We find the paper-towel dispenser and get out alive.”
The answer made Spencer feel like he’d asked a dumb question. Of course he knew that part of the plan. Instead of making a comeback, Spencer focused on strapping down his janitorial belt.
“We stay together,” answered Walter. “Search the bathrooms until we find it.”
“No.” Everyone turned to Alan. “If the Aurans were trying to hide this dispenser, then the bathroom’s too obvious. It won’t be out in the open. Remember, we’ve got the key, which means that the dispenser hasn’t been opened for at least twenty years—since Rico Chavez.”
“And who knows if Rico even made it that far,” Walter added.
“So where do we look?” Bernard said, locking the doors to the garbage truck.
Penny, who had been stretching her legs and doing a few simple gymnastic warm-ups, gave another idea. “Let’s just get inside and see
what we find. I hate standing around like this.”
As Penny led the team across the parking lot, Spencer turned back, searching for Daisy. She had fallen behind the others, struggling to keep up while trying to jam something into her janitorial belt.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, letting the team pass ahead.
“Yeah,” she said, barely glancing up at him. “It just won’t fit in this pouch.”
“What won’t fit?”
Daisy gave up on the belt with a sigh. She turned to show Spencer what she was working on. He almost laughed when he saw it in Daisy’s outstretched hand.
“You’re bringing Baybee?” Spencer cried.
She gave him a look like her decision was obvious. “We’re going into another school. We might need a hall pass.”
“It’s the middle of the night, Daisy! No one’s checking hall passes! Besides, Baybee’s a . . . baby. I thought we’d been over this!”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glinting in the flickering light from the school’s entryway. “This isn’t Welcher Elementary School,” she said.
Spencer nodded slowly. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say.”
“I’m scared, Spencer.” Her voice was soft. “Running around strange hallways in dark schools isn’t really my thing.” She held up Baybee. “But when I’m carrying Mrs. Natcher’s hall pass, at least something makes me feel like I’m home.”
Spencer reached out and plucked Baybee from her grasp. “We’ll be okay, Daisy.” He tucked back the doll’s arms and legs. “I stuffed a gigantic Grime into a belt pouch once,” he said. “I’m pretty sure we can fit a baby doll.”
The look of fear on Daisy’s face melted a bit, and she turned so Spencer could slide Baybee into the pouch.
Just as the doll’s head tucked out of sight, Alan’s voice sounded behind Spencer. “What are you doing?” His dad grabbed him by the elbow. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is to fall behind?” Walter, Penny, and Bernard were already crowded around the school’s front door.
“What if something happened to you?” Alan continued, hauling his son toward the others. Daisy jogged to keep up. “Being on this mission means you stay with the team. Got it?”
Spencer pulled away. He didn’t have to answer. He was tired of his dad bossing him around, acting like Spencer had never done anything dangerous before.
Penny was crouched in front of the school door with her bottle of Windex. She adjusted the nozzle and gave a small, concentrated spray directly at the lock. The wet area shimmered with a magical blue light.
The rest of the team stepped back to give her some room as she extended a long razorblade. With great precision, Penny thrust the sharp tip forward, shattering the glass lock and popping the door open.
In a moment, they were inside Alsbury High School, moving carefully down the hallway. Spencer reached for his razorblade. He didn’t open it, but he felt safer with the weapon resting in his sweaty palm.
Bernard stopped suddenly, Spencer and Daisy almost bumping into him. The garbologist had his headlamp downturned, the light illuminating part of the hard floor in the middle of the hallway.
“Pst! I think I found something!” Bernard whispered. Walter and Alan crowded around. Penny reluctantly gave up the lead, doubling back to see what Bernard was so excited about.
Bernard pointed a finger to a brownish stain on the floor.
“Is it dried blood?” Daisy’s voice was small in the large hallway.
“Looks like an old paint spill,” Walter answered.
“Big whoop,” Penny shrugged. “A paint spill.”
“It’s not the spill, so much as the shape of the spill, that matters,” said Bernard. “It’s a perfect semicircle. Soda pop makes this shape when it runs down the side of a garbage can and pools on the floor.”
“What does that have to do with the paper-towel dispenser?” Alan asked.
“It’s the middle of the hallway,” Bernard said. “Not a logical place to put a trash can.” He cast his headlamp down the hallway, spotlighting every garbage can within range. Then he raced off, inspecting each one from top to bottom.
Spencer was mostly grossed out as Bernard ran his hands along the garbage cans. But Daisy seemed wholly curious by the garbologist’s methods.
In a flash, Bernard was back, carrying a large trash can. He set it down carefully, adjusting it over the crescent of dried paint. “Aha!” He raised a victorious fist. “Perfect match!” Spencer could see a dried drip of matching brown paint on the side of the garbage can.
“What does this have to do with the paper-towel dispenser?” Alan asked again, this time with a hint of impatience in his voice.
“I don’t know yet,” Bernard said, yanking the plastic liner out of the can. “I’m just reading the trash.” Then he threw down the sack of garbage and dove headfirst into the empty trash can. Daisy giggled, but Spencer had to look away. Walter checked his watch.
“Seriously?” Penny said, stomping her foot impatiently. “Can we just go on without him? I thought we were looking for a towel dispenser, not Oscar the Grouch.”
“Look no further!” Bernard called, emerging from the trash can. He straightened his duct-tape tie and cleared his throat. “I’m fairly certain that we’ll find the dispenser behind this brick wall.” He pointed across the hallway.
Penny laughed out loud. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard since high school!”
“We’re in a high school,” Daisy pointed out.
Bernard drew his bottle of Windex, twisted the nozzle for maximum spray, and began misting the brick wall. The hallway was momentarily illuminated in a sapphire glow. Then the iridescence faded as the brick wall turned entirely to glass.
On the other side of the transparent wall, Spencer saw a hidden, narrow bathroom. There were stalls on both sides, the metal doors securely closed. An old lightbulb cast the secret bathroom in a yellowish haze. And mounted on the far wall, looking isolated and innocent, was the paper-towel dispenser.
Chapter 22
“Everyone Knows the Answer.”
Wow,” Daisy said, staring through the glass wall at the hidden bathroom. She turned to Bernard. “How’d you know it was there?”
“The trash can told me,” answered the garbologist.
Penny scoffed. “Which is another way of saying that you made a lucky guess.”
“The middle of the hallway is an unlikely place for a garbage can, which means someone put it there for a special purpose,” Bernard explained. “The paint, dripping down the can and pooling on the floor, must have dried before anyone had a chance to clean it up, which means that the job was done in a hurry. Probably during the middle of the night, so as to not block student walkways in the hall. Lastly, there are dried bits of mortar in the bottom of the trashcan, which means that someone stood here,” Bernard moved in front of the glass wall, “and scraped their trowel into the garbage can while repairing this wall.”
“You’re amazing!” Daisy gawked.
Bernard closed his eyes and smiled. “And you’re a sweetheart.”
“Why would Rico Chavez repair this wall?” Spencer asked, never taking his eyes from the hidden bathroom.
“No,” Alan said. “Rico didn’t repair the wall. He probably got curious and blew it open. But since he didn’t retrieve the map, the Aurans had to hide the paper-towel dispenser again by patching the wall.”
“Well,” Penny cut in, “we can stand here and hypothesize about which little piggy built this brick wall, but that’s not going to help us get to that dispenser.”
“Penny’s right.” Walter checked his watch again. “We need to get in there.”
Without further discussion, Penny drew a pushbroom from her belt. She twirled it around like a fighting staff and then thrust it against the formerly brick wall. The sound caused everyone to cringe as huge fragments of glass shattered to the floor.
Then it was utterly quiet. The distinctive smell of a public bathroom waft
ed through the open passageway. Spencer wrinkled his nose.
Penny stepped across the broken entryway. Her hand hovered at her side, ready to draw the best weapon from her belt. Alan and Walter were less than a step behind her, glass crunching under the soles of their shoes.
Spencer glanced at Daisy. She was nervously chewing her pinkie nail, eyes unblinking. Bernard put a hand on her shoulder and ushered her in alongside Spencer.
The team stood huddled in the bathroom’s secret entrance. Alan had his arms out, holding everyone back as he silently studied the area for traps.
“I’m guessing this is where the Toxites were trapped,” Alan said.
“So Rico Chavez got suspicious about what was behind the wall,” Walter hypothesized. “When he broke it open, the Toxites saw their chance for escape, and poor Rico couldn’t get out of the way fast enough.”
“We can thank him later,” Bernard said. “Those Toxites would be coming out on us right now if it weren’t for Rico.”
“How can we thank him later?” Daisy muttered. “He’s dead.”
Spencer peered around Walter and shuddered at the state of the restroom. It was an unusually long bathroom, with about twenty stalls on either side, metal doors tightly closed. Sloppy graffiti covered the ceiling and walls in streaks of red and black. Most of it looked like meaningless lines and scribbles, hardened drips of paint hanging like stalactites.
“There’s something seriously wrong with this bathroom,” Spencer said after a quick survey.
“Very observant,” Bernard muttered. “Do you think it has something to do with the lovely artwork?”
Then Spencer realized why it felt so off. “There aren’t any sinks!” He balled his hands into fists, making a mental commitment not to touch anything. What kind of bathroom didn’t have sinks? How were people supposed to wash their hands?
“I don’t like the look of that,” Alan said, drawing a Glopified flashlight from his belt. The flashlight would shine brightly to reveal any magical item in the room.
Spencer and Daisy squeezed through the group of adults as Alan flicked the switch. A white beam shot from his flashlight, illuminating an object in the center of the bathroom.
Curse of the Broomstaff Page 11