Enter the Janitor (The Cleaners) (Volume 1)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
About the Author
Josh Vogt
Enter the Janitor
Josh Vogt
Clean-freak college student Dani Hashelheim never imagined she’d discover her latent magical ability in, of all places, a bathroom. But when she ducks into the ladies’ room at the library, she’s put in the crossfire between an elderly janitor and a ravenous muck-monster that emerges from the sink. Dani’s previously unknown power manifests in self-defense, and she floods and burns down the library—at the same time.
Enter Ben, the janitor, who works for the Cleaners, a supernatural sanitation company that keeps reality tidy and safe … and a company Dani now works for as well, whether she wants to or not. This puts a significant crimp in her dream to attend med school and become a doctor. Nor is Ben happy, since it’s his duty to help Dani adapt to the job and learn to control her chaotic talent before it kills them both.
Dani barely has time to try on her new company uniform before she and Ben are hunted down by a cult that wants to cleanse all life from the planet, and believes her power provides the means to do so. While fighting to survive the cult’s increasingly violent recruitment attempts, the pair must battle dust devils, navigate a maze of mystical sewers, face down trash golems—and scrub the occasional toilet.
***
Praise for Enter the Janitor
“A fresh voice in urban fantasy and an original new hero. And after reading this novel, you might never again go to the bathroom alone….”
—Laura Resnick, author of the Esther Diamond series
“It’s always a good sign when I close a book with a giggle. Enter the Janitor by Josh Vogt is a humorous contemporary fantasy that goes places and meets creatures you won’t expect and haven’t seen before. His protagonists are definitely not your standard fantasy heroes, nor their cause the usual fight between Good and Evil. Just when you think you’ve figured out the world, it twists again, landing you in a new place with new perils. Clever, well-written and a bunch of fun.”
—Jody Lynn Nye, bestselling fantasy
and science fiction author
***
Smashwords Edition – 2015
WordFire Press
wordfirepress.com
ISBN: 978-1-61475-319-3
Copyright © 2015 Josh Vogt
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the copyright holder, except where permitted by law. This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover design by Janet McDonald
Art Director Kevin J. Anderson
Cover artwork images by Jeff Herndon
Book Design by RuneWright, LLC
www.RuneWright.com
Kevin J. Anderson & Rebecca Moesta, Publishers
Published by
WordFire Press, an imprint of
WordFire, Inc.
PO Box 1840
Monument, CO 80132
Electronic Version by Baen Books
www.baen.com
***
Chapter One
Ben shuffled into the college library, tugging his squeaky janitorial cart along like a coffin-on-wheels. The moment he entered the place, his right arm started aching, adding a small, but significant voice to the chorus of twinges, knotted muscles, and scars that composed his aging body.
Ignoring this as best he could, he took a big whiff of the place. He snorted and shook his head, gray ponytail flapping.
At the noise, heads popped up from textbooks and tablets as students stared his way. Ben gave them his best grumpy grandpa look until they turned back to their books. A study group that had circled up chairs in the center of the room resumed murmuring calculus equations at each other, which might as well have been a foreign language to Ben.
Resisting the urge to massage his arm, he made eye contact with the young man behind the main desk. Jason, the work-study for the evening, flashed a relieved smile as he lurched out of his chair and headed the janitor’s way.
Ben tugged at his blue jumpsuit so his name, threaded in red on the left breast, displayed prominently. The spray bottle hanging on his belt quivered as the water sloshed within. Ben scowled and slapped it.
“Shaddup,” he whispered. “I can handle this.”
Jason arrived, glancing around as if afraid of angering some librarian deity. His combed hair and tucked polo shirt made him look like the chrysalis version of a politician, close to breaking out of the cocoon into full suit-and-smirk mode.
“If I’d known anyone was coming, I would’ve established quarantine,” he said.
Ben cleared his throat with the subtlety of a garbage disposal. “If I’d known any winnin’ lotto numbers, I woulda retired years ago. What’s your point?”
Flushing, Jason caught the janitor’s arm. Ben let himself be guided to one side, but once they got out of earshot, he grumbled at the younger man.
“Leggo of my arm. The suit don’t block everythin’.”
Jason snatched his hand back. “I—er. Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh.’ And here I thought you was one of the smarter recruits.”
“Should I … uh …” Jason wiped his hand on his shirt.
“If you caught anythin’, it wouldn’t matter if you stuck it in boilin’ water until the skin came off. Just don’t grope me again.”
“The Board processed my report?” Jason asked.
“Yuppers. Figured it was worth a look.”
Jason squinted in doubt. “And they sent you?”
Ben pushed his sagging cheeks up and leaned in. “You wanted someone prettier? Want me to go steal some lipstick from the girls’ dorm and get gussied?”
Jason coughed and backed up a step. “Sorry, I just … I waited a while to call in. You know how HQ gets if you file too many false alarms. Wasn’t sure
if I actually sensed anything or was just being paranoid.”
Ben rolled his bowed shoulders, which crackled like bubble wrap. “What’re we dealin’ with?”
“The vents keep rumbling,” Jason nodded at a nearby grille, “and I’ve noticed above-average grime buildup. Definitely Corruption of some sort. Could be coming in from the air ducts. Maybe a muttermite infestation.”
Ben sniffed. “Naw. You trainees are gettin’ sloppy. Muttermites ain’t never made this kinda stink.”
Jason’s nose wrinkled. “I haven’t smelled anything.”
“That’s ’cause you ain’t an old hound dog like me. You couldn’t sniff out Corruption if bile got pumped straight up your blowholes.”
The water in the spray bottle sloshed again.
“Hmm.” Ben nodded. “Good idea.”
Jason eyed the water as it spun. “Is that … Carl?”
“You betcha.” Ben patted the bottle. “And no. You ain’t gonna hold him, pet him, snuggle, or take a sip.”
“I wasn’t going to—”
“Hush it. Lemme concentrate.”
He shut his eyes to fix on his prey. He blanked out the hushed chatter of the students, the hum of air conditioning, and the clack of fingernails over keyboards. He pushed past every distraction until …
The subtle foulness in the air congealed into an olfactory hook that set in his nose and jerked him toward the source of Corruption. Along with this came the sound of leather being dragged over rusty metal, and a messy snuffling, like a dog gobbling up fresh goose droppings.
Ben cocked his head at the bathrooms. “We got ourselves a blot-hound nested in the pipes.”
Jason paled. “But there haven’t been any suicides. They leave pretty distinctive trails, too. I’m sure I would’ve noticed. And if it has a nest, that’s even worse. They always fight hardest against threats to claimed territory and—”
Ben sighed. “Are you tryin’ to be helpful or just make yourself look smart?”
Jason stuck his chest out. “I’ve been studying. Almost ready to test for active field duty.”
“Studyin’. Heh.” Ben smirked. “Lemme fill you in on a company secret, kid. With the Cleaners, you don’t learn through information. You learn through action. Gotten any of that lately?”
“I’m … not sure you mean it that way.”
He clapped the trainee on the shoulder. “Don’t think about it too hard. After all, I’m just a geezer here to get the job done.”
“What should we do?”
“We? Nuh-uh. I got this. You plant your butt back behind that desk and keep clear.”
“Sir, I’ve been ready for this for a year now.”
“If you think that, then you sure as shootin’ ain’t ready yet.”
Jason’s face fell.
Ben scratched his arm, which itched where the kid had grabbed it. “You really wanna be useful?”
“Please. Anything.”
“Then go get me a sign that says the bathrooms are closed. That’ll give me time to check things out and see if there’s somewhere to fit you in. Anyone in either of them now?”
“Don’t think so,” Jason said. “I’ll get a sign up, but—”
A growl wavered out from the women’s bathroom, loud enough to perk up several students who glanced about in confusion. Ben’s neck hairs prickled, and Jason’s eyes widened.
The librarian wiped at a trickle of sweat that escaped a trimmed sideburn. “Uh … are you sure you don’t need any help?”
Ben snorted. “Kiddin’? I’ve been moppin’ up Scum since before you started shavin’.”
A grimace. “Right. Guess I’ll … get that sign and then alert the scrub-team.”
“You do that.” Ben plodded back to his cart and hefted a plunger. “Ain’t gonna take more than ten, mebbe twenty minutes.”
The spray bottle gurgled.
Jason scowled at it. “Does he know I understand him?”
“‘Course he does,” Ben said. “He wouldn’t have said it, otherwise.”
“Well, he doesn’t have to be so insulting.”
The water slopped about, making chuckling noises.
After Jason left, Ben nudged the cart into motion with a knee.
As he maneuvered it between a bookshelf and coffee table, a slender female student burst through the double doors of a side hall. She wore black leather gloves and a white headband pinned frizzy red hair behind her ears. Wide-eyed, she peered around the room until she spotted the calculus study group. She raised a finger in the universal just a minute sign. Adjusting her backpack, she bolted through the room.
Ben’s blood chilled as he realized she was aimed for the women’s restroom. He flung the plunger at her back in a desperate attempt to stop her. However, she slipped into the bathroom, and the tool bounced off the door as it slapped closed.
O O O
Something thumped against the door, but Dani ignored it as she tossed her backpack onto the counter. She fumbled in the main pouch and hauled out her jumbo bottle of sanitation gel.
In her haste to make it to the study group, she’d bumped into two people on the way. Two! Who knew what their hygienic standards were? When had they showered last? Did they even own toothbrushes? One had awful halitosis, and had huffed an apology in her face as she shoved past, trying to control her rising panic.
She tugged her gloves off and pinched them under one arm. Then she pumped double-handfuls of gel and slathered it over her hands and forearms. The cutting odor of alcohol filled the restroom. Her panic subsided as the fumes surrounded her, a protective shield against a filthy world.
As the gel evaporated, she envisioned it taking bacteria and dirt with it. Vapors singed her nose, but she breathed deep. Clean body, clean mind. She had to remain vigilant, otherwise who knew what germs might hitch a ride on her skin and then burrow deep? A shudder rippled through her as she counted off possibilities: Staphylococcus. Streptococcus. Escherichia coli. Oh, god! What if she’d contracted Clostridium difficile? Should she schedule a doctor’s appointment? Should she—
The door banged open behind her. She shrieked and whirled about as a tall, elderly janitor barged in, waving a plunger like a sword.
“Aren’t you supposed to knock?” she cried. “I could’ve been—”
She dodged as his cart almost ran her over. It rammed into a stall and soapy water sloshed out of the bucket.
“Hustle outta here, missy,” he said, pursuing his equipment. She pulled back against the sink to avoid touching as he shouldered by. “We’re closin’ the place down for a lil’ maintenance.”
“C-close? But—” Dani hadn’t finished her self-assessment. “I need a few minutes, okay? I’ve got an emergency of my own.”
She squeezed her thighs together, faking the urgent need to pee. As she did, her bladder alerted her brain that it could actually use some relief. She stifled a groan. Using a public restroom would tack another ten minutes onto her routine, not counting prep-work to make sure the toilet was clean enough. Had she brought enough wet-wipes?
Grabbing her backpack, she edged toward the nearest stall, but balked as he barred the way with an arm.
“Whoa, hey there.” His craggy smile accentuated the bags under his dark blue eyes. Oh god, was there dirt in his wrinkles? “Lemme rephrase. Nasty case of pipes backin’ up in here. Gotta shut ’er down before things go Old Faithful. If you don’t wanna flood of piss all over your shoes, you need to leave. Now.”
Tasting bile, Dani considered retreating. But she couldn’t leave without finishing her routine. She just … couldn’t. He had to be exaggerating. If it was that bad, they would’ve had signs up and cordoned the place off.
“Look, gramps, I’ll be quick. Just a minute or two so I don’t wet myself.”
“Nothin’ doin’. Time to build a little character, princess. Get outta here and lemme do my job, a’ight?”
She sniffed. “Riding bikes builds character. I am not getting a bladder infection because you want to
get back to reading porn in the janitor’s closet.”
He eyed her, grinning for some reason. His brown-streaked teeth made her stomach roil, and his breath had a tinge of spoiled meat.
“I ain’t gonna argue about this, princess.” He snatched a toilet brush off his cart and prodded her stomach. “Outcha go. Shoo.”
She yelped and hopped back. What was he doing? He used that thing to clean up after people … after they … She couldn’t complete the thought. He kept jabbing at her while she danced and dodged.
“What—hey—stop!”
A cattle prod would’ve been less of a deterrent. Her gloves fell to the floor as she jumped away from a vicious thrust. She thought of screaming for help, but what good would that do?
At last, she bumped back against the door. How many greasy handprints had she just come in contact with? How many people washed their hands before leaving? Screw study group. She needed a steaming shower and a change of clothes before she lost her mind.
The janitor came on, grinning like a jester monkey. She tried to kick the brush out of his hand, but he pulled away.
“Ah-ah.” He flicked the brush in reprimand.
Droplets hit her forehead, and she stiffened. Code Red exposure. She almost wiped the vile liquid off, but then realized her hands remained exposed. Her gloves. Where were her gloves? Her gel remained on the sink, taunting her. She reached for it even as the distance increased.
“No. Wait …”
The janitor closed the gap. “There’s more’n one set of bathrooms ’round, ain’t there?” A final jab of the brush had her out in the library again. “Or there’s some comfy bushes outside, if you got the gumption.”
She bristled. “Now hold on—”
The door slammed in her face.
O O O