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Curse of the Broomstaff

Page 24

by Tyler Whitesides


  “Come up here, Spencer,” V said, “so we can talk about this.”

  “Spencer! Don’t!” Daisy shouted, but V clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “I have to shut this down!” Spencer called.

  “It’s too late. The pump can’t be stopped once it’s started. The Glop must be recycled,” V said. “Circle of life.”

  Spencer gritted his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re doing!” he said. “Toxites are born in Glop! You’re just making more monsters!”

  “Why is that my problem?”

  “You’re destroying education!”

  V shrugged. “I’m just keeping things the way they were when the Founding Witches left.”

  “That’s wrong,” Spencer muttered, hardly loud enough for her to hear. “The Witches wouldn’t want this.” He raised his voice defiantly. “You’re out of line, V! And I have to stop you!”

  There was only one thing left to do. Lifting one hand in front of his face, Spencer braced himself and spat onto his palm. His hands came together with a resounding clap as he rubbed them briskly together.

  His hands were glowing now, fists of golden fire that caused V to release Daisy and step away in fear.

  Then Spencer reached out his left hand and pressed it against the rising pump.

  Chapter 50

  “Get out of here!”

  Spencer felt the oily lubricant smearing across his hand and arm as the pump cylinder rose one final time. A surge of magic kicked down his arm, lighting the pump like a firework. The metal turned white hot. The huge pump, one minute coursing with unimaginable energy, instantly shut down.

  The pump cylinder bucked hard, knocking Spencer back. Then the pump came to a standstill, oozing Glop as the magical power leaked out of the machinery.

  Spencer staggered, fighting to remain conscious against the intense drain of energy through his body. He was aware of his success, aware also of V screaming at him from the landing by the door.

  He’d done it! Just as Olin had described it, Spencer had opened his full powers like the Dark Aurans.

  But there was no time to revel in his success, as Spencer realized that the pump wasn’t going to shut down calmly. There was too much pressure in the pipes, too much builtup energy from the Glop.

  The pipes began to tremble violently, an elevated hum building through the whole pump house. Spencer caught sight of the gauges and meters, their red needles spinning wildly out of control.

  “Get out!” Spencer shouted as the joint between two pipes gave way. It burst with a hiss of sulfuric vapor. The bolts that had held it zinged outward like bullets, puncturing another pipe and burrowing into the wall.

  There was a spray of grayish Glop, and Spencer ducked down to avoid the steaming substance. In the course of the explosion, there was a loud crack of splitting timbers. Then the platform was coming down, carrying V with it. Daisy was left above, dangling one-handed from a ladder that now led to nowhere.

  The vapor momentarily cleared, and Spencer saw V crumpled under a heap of broken timber.

  “Go, Daisy!” Spencer screamed. “Get out!”

  He would have gone too, but he couldn’t leave V to die like this. Spencer drew a bottle of orange healing spray from his belt and ran to the girl’s aid. There was a red gash across her forehead, but he quickly misted it and waited for the healing to happen.

  Another pipe exploded, pumping a chug of Glop onto the concrete floor. The walls of the pump house were shuddering and the pressure in the room was mounting.

  “Daisy!” Spencer shouted again. “Get out of here! Try to take cover somewhere. This whole place is about to explode!”

  Daisy nodded gravely. “I’ll be back with help!” She struck her broom against the broken ladder and launched through the doorway. But help would come too late. Spencer had only a few more moments to revive V and make his escape.

  Spencer turned away from the fallen girl and checked his janitorial belt for a broom. The clips were empty, and he remembered that he’d used up both brooms just to get to the pump house. With the ladder gone too, he’d have to try climbing up the brick wall. But the floor was a mess of Glop puddles, cutting off any footpath to safety.

  Mop strings lashed through the vapor, seizing him around the arm and slamming him against the pump. He slumped to the ground, his shoulder aching from the blow.

  V rose through the mist, her mop retracting. “Now you’ve done it, Spencer Zumbro.” V’s voice was terrifyingly calm amidst the rattling pipes. “You said you didn’t share their powers. You said you weren’t a Dark Auran.” She grabbed a shiny scrap of metal from the floor and held it out to him. “Look at you now!”

  Through the yellowish haze, Spencer saw his reflection in the metal. His hair was silvery white, the telltale sign of an Auran. He reached up instinctively, his hand running through his hair. It must have happened when he had deGlopified the pump!

  “You’re just like them now,” V muttered. “Trying to take away my glory.” V gestured around her. “Destroying this place will accomplish nothing. I will rebuild this pump house, pipe by blasted pipe. And I will use the Dark Aurans to Glopify it for me.”

  “You’re wrong about this, V. I wish you’d understand,” Spencer said, feeling the air tighten in the pump house, knowing that in another minute or two it wouldn’t matter who was wrong or right because they would both be blown sky-high. “The Dark Aurans aren’t evil.”

  “Enough!” V’s face was bathed in sweat and twisted with rage. “We will see who is right and who is wrong,” she said. “We will see who is good and who is evil. The Founding Witches will decide.”

  “The Witches are long gone, V! It’s time to make decisions for yourself.”

  Then there was an earsplitting sound as the wooden roof of the pump house splintered and broke. Amid the shower of shattered timber, Spencer glanced up to see a giant Extension Rubbish swoop through the opening.

  There was a rider on its back, smaller than most of the BEM Pluggers he’d seen. As the beast winged around, the figure was clearly visible, long braid blowing out behind her.

  “Daisy?”

  Spencer didn’t even have time to brace himself before one scaly Rubbish foot snatched him in its armored talons. The leathery wings flapped, dispersing the thick vapor and lifting the creature, with Spencer in tow, skyward. They burst into the night through the same hole that the Extension Rubbish had entered, and Spencer gasped his first breath of fresh air.

  “Daisy!” Spencer shouted. “Is that really you?”

  The Extension Rubbish craned its long neck, snapping its giant beak at the boy in its grasp. “Bad birdie!” Daisy slapped the Rubbish’s neck and twisted the dial on her battery pack. “Don’t eat him! We’re trying to save him!”

  Spencer wanted to laugh! He didn’t know how it was possible, but Daisy had somehow mounted an Extension Rubbish and flown to his rescue!

  From his aerial view, Spencer could see the battle from a safe distance. The Aurans huddled at the edge of the lagoon, fighting relentlessly against the small agitated Toxites and the Pluggers.

  Spencer squinted to find Bookworm and the Rebels making a desperate retreat toward the 7-Up soda can, Sach leading the way. But there was still one figure, isolated and abandoned on the Broomstaff island, her blue bin boat adrift in the now-calm Glop lagoon.

  “There!” Spencer shouted, pointing to the little island. “We’ve got to get Rho!”

  Daisy leaned on her Extension Rubbish, sending the creature into a spiral dive. They circled the huge Broomstaff, its coarse bristles weathered and splayed heavenward.

  Rho was readying for an attack until she saw the huge creature drop Spencer into the mud and land gracefully a few feet away.

  “Good birdie,” Daisy said, patting the Rubbish on its bald head. “Polly wanna cracker?”

  The Extension Rubbish turned and snapped at her, its pinkish eyes vicious in the glow of the Glop. “Yikes!” Daisy twisted the dial all the way to green. “I guess w
e’re still not friends.” Electricity flowed down the Glopified cord, and the Rubbish bowed its head contentedly.

  “Let’s go!” Spencer said, clamoring to his feet and rushing to Rho. He could see the Rubbish’s breath beginning to affect Rho, so he clipped out his air freshener and gave a prolonged spray.

  The Auran girl paused in thought before turning to Daisy. “You can drop me at the battle with the other Aurans.” She pointed across the Glop lagoon. “Sach will make sure the rest of you get safely away.”

  “No,” Spencer said. “You’re a traitor now, the other Aurans will hate you!”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Rho said. “I’m going to claim the Spade and attempt to overthrow V. I have some respect among the others. Perhaps a few more will see things the way I do.”

  “Climb up,” Daisy said, helping Rho onto the Extension Rubbish. Spencer grabbed a tuft of black hair on the creature’s back, shuddering to think that the beast had never been washed or combed. Then he hoisted himself up behind Rho, barely finding room.

  Spencer nestled into the saddle, which seemed to be nothing more than a Glopified floor mat. As soon as he was settled, he felt the magic hold him in place. Spencer was grateful for it, too, because the moment Daisy twisted the dial, the Extension Rubbish lifted off with a lurch that would have sent him tumbling from the monster’s back.

  “It responds to our movement,” Daisy said. “Kind of like the cleaning carts at New Forest Academy. Try to lean with me.”

  The three kids followed Daisy’s directions as she swooped the Extension Rubbish down to where Jersey, Shirley, Sylva, Yorkie, Dela, Netty, Gia, and Lina stood fighting. The Rubbish landed in the mud, and Rho wasted no time in dismounting.

  “Rho,” Spencer called as she turned away. “What made you change your mind?”

  She smiled at him, and for a moment she looked like Jenna, though Spencer could hardly see her that way anymore.

  “We’ve been fighting against the Dark Aurans for such a long time that we couldn’t remember how to be peaceable. Then you came along. I got along just fine with you, and that got me thinking, What if it’s all just a feud? What if we hate the Dark Aurans simply because we’ve always hated them? You gave me a second chance,” she said. “Maybe Aryl, Olin, and Sach deserve the same.”

  “Take care of yourself, Rho.” The Rubbish spread its wings.

  She nodded. “You too.”

  Then Daisy and Spencer were taking flight once more, swooping down toward Sach and the Rebels hiding in the 7-Up can.

  “Plunger!” Daisy shouted. Spencer knew just what she meant, thinking how great it was that he and Daisy had fought together for so long that they knew how to predict one another.

  Spencer unclipped a toilet plunger from his janitorial belt, and Daisy leaned hard, swooping the great bird downward. As they passed the soda can, Spencer thrust with the plunger, clamping solidly to the aluminum side.

  With an unbelievable squelching sound, the soda can lifted free of the mud and was airborne. The plunger reduced its weight, making it easy for the Extension Rubbish to bear the whole load away.

  Spencer took one final glance over his shoulder at the Broomstaff. The battle still waged at the lagoon’s shore. Dozens of injured Toxites were littered among the fallen BEM riders.

  No one noticed the flying soda can except for one distant figure emerging from the unstable pump house. She stood at the edge of the lagoon, and, for a moment, Spencer could feel V’s angry eyes boring into him.

  Then the pump house exploded into a cloud of smoke and scrap. The foundation erupted like a geyser of molten Glop. The sludgy substance flowed over the bank, dripping back into the lagoon where it would wait. Wait for V to rebuild the pump.

  Chapter 51

  “We have something for you.”

  Spencer felt as if his arm might fall off. They had been flying for a long time with Spencer bent over the side of the Extension Rubbish, holding the plunger and the soda can. Daisy guided the winged creature past several familiar landmarks, including the garbage arches and lastly the Valley of Tires.

  No sooner had they flown past Michelin and Goodyear than they were winging down beside the deep gorge and coming to land on the concrete dumping pad next to the Auran building. It seemed so long ago that the Rebels had been here, watching the Aurans climb out of their dumpsters.

  Spencer slid off the side of the Rubbish as his Rebel friends emerged from the soda can, Bookworm and Sach being the last to appear. Daisy jumped down from the saddle, the battery pack still in place with the cord connecting her to the beast.

  “What do you think we should do with Birdie?” Daisy asked, pointing at the Extension Rubbish.

  “It’s a Toxite,” Penny said. “We kill it.”

  Daisy put one hand on the creature’s neck. “That doesn’t seem fair. She just carried us safely here and now we’re going to . . . ?” Daisy drew a finger along the Rubbish’s neck like she was decapitating it.

  “It’s a dangerous beast,” Walter reminded her. “Remember, the only reason it isn’t attacking us is because it’s plugged in.”

  “I don’t know.” Daisy shrugged. “Seems kind of friendly to me.”

  In response, the Extension Rubbish parted its beak and spewed a dark cloud of dust into Daisy’s face. When it cleared, the girl was completely covered in black soot. The Rubbish’s face was inches from her own, a hungry look in its pterodactyl eyes.

  “I could be wrong.” Daisy stepped away.

  “I’ll deal with the Rubbish after you’ve gone,” Sach said. “You guys need to get away while there’s still time.”

  Bernard squinted across the gorge to where the bridge had collapsed on their first day. “I’m guessing my truck is history?”

  Sach nodded. “I’m afraid so. Your truck was dragged down with the turning of the landfill.”

  Bernard’s face paled. He tugged on the flaps of his aviator cap. “Gone? My beauty?” His legs bent stiffly and he sat right down on the ground. Spencer was afraid he might cry.

  “We can’t go out of here on foot,” Alan said. “It’s miles of desert in every direction.”

  “You’re taking a different garbage truck,” Sach said. “An Auran garbage truck.”

  “The Aurans know how to drive?” Daisy said. “That can’t be legal.”

  “No one’s ever caught them,” Sach replied. “All the Aurans drive Glopified garbage trucks. When they sit in the cab, the windows create a certain illusion, making it look like an old man behind the wheel.”

  “Where do you park these trucks?” Walter asked, scanning the area.

  “The one you’ll be taking is Rho’s,” Sach said. “It’s in Ohio right now.”

  Penny rolled her eyes. “That’s not doing us much good.”

  “But you can get to it instantly through this dumpster.” Sach walked across the concrete dumping pad and pointed into one of the industrial garbage bins. “This dumpster is a portal to the back of the garbage truck. All you have to do is jump in, and you’ll come out in Ohio.”

  Spencer remembered how all the Aurans had climbed out of the dumpsters when Rho had called them. The Aurans must have parked their trucks and jumped through the back to come out in the garbage. Now the Rebels would make the reverse journey to escape.

  “Once you’re all safely in the truck, I’ll attempt to destroy this dumpster so the Aurans can’t follow you through.”

  “Wait a minute,” Spencer said, suddenly realizing what Sach was saying. “You’re not coming with us?”

  Sach tapped the bronze Pan around his neck. “Sorry, friends. I’m stuck here.”

  “You don’t have to stay,” Spencer said. “I can take the Pan off right now.” He lifted his left hand to spit again. “I’ve learned how to de-Glopify. I can set you free!”

  Sach shook his head slowly. “There’s not enough time.”

  “Sure, there is,” Spencer answered. “It only takes a second.”

  “The kind of power that you po
ssess has certain limitations,” Sach said. “It requires time to regenerate after it has been used.”

  Spencer lowered his hand. “The pump house,” he muttered. “I didn’t know . . .”

  Sach put a hand on his shoulder. “You did the right thing. If Toxites are really coming from Glop, then the pump house needed to be destroyed.”

  “How long does it take to regenerate?” Spencer asked.

  “A full day or two,” answered Sach. He sighed. “Too long for you to stick around. The others will be back by then.”

  Spencer felt awful about it. He’d had an opportunity to un-Pan each of the Dark Aurans, and instead he’d spent his power on the pump house. “I’ll come back for you,” he said. “When all this is over, I’ll come back and un-Pan you, and Aryl, and Olin. Next week?” He looked to his dad for approval.

  Sach shook his head. “You have to be more careful than that,” he said. “The girls will be expecting you to return for us. They’ll have traps set to get you to the Broomstaff again.”

  “What should I do, then?” Spencer asked. “When should I come back?”

  Sach looked off into the landfill. “For the first time in over two hundred years, there’s an Auran who doesn’t hate us. After what she did for you, I think Rho will be willing to work with us. We’ll use her to convince the other girls that we’re not evil,” Sach said. “When the time is right, Rho will find you. Then you’ll know it’s safe to come back and un-Pan us.”

  Sach stuck out his hand, and Spencer shook it, sealing his promise to come back for the Dark Aurans.

  “You best be off.” Sach pointed to the dumpster.

  Bookworm took two loping steps over to Daisy and made some strange grunting sounds.

  She nodded sadly. “I’ve got to go, buddy.”

  The Thingamajunk gave its trademark smile, a Lay’s potato chip bag sloughing off its shoulder. Before anyone could say a word, the Thingamajunk hoisted itself onto the rim of the dumpster and dove headfirst through the portal.

 

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