“Why not take her out completely?” Bernard asked.
“Mr. Clean can’t be far behind us,” she said. “If he shows up and all of his guards are blind and de-Glopified, he’ll know we beat him here.”
“Green spray erases only recent memories,” Walter said. “That means you’ll have only a minute or two from the time she spots you. Anything beyond that might not get erased and she’ll wake up with a memory of the fight.”
“I’ll be faster alone,” Dez said.
“Absolutely not,” replied Walter. “You’re flying Penny up there.”
Dez was shaking his head. “No can do. Penny’s too big. I don’t think I can carry her that high.”
“Are you calling me fat?” Penny glared, hands on hips.
“Use a plunger,” said Bernard. “She’ll be weightless.”
Dez shrugged. “I don’t have one.”
“Here,” Daisy said. She unclipped a Glopified toilet plunger and tossed it to him. Dez’s taloned hand closed around the handle, but it slipped through his grasp and landed on the dirt road. He bent over, his awkward hands making several attempts to grasp the wooden handle. At last he got it, but when he turned to face the Rebels, the plunger slipped through his fingers again.
Penny raised an eyebrow. “I’m not flying anywhere with Butterfingers.”
“It’s not my fault you weigh so much,” Dez said. He didn’t bother trying to pick up the plunger again. “I’ll just have to go alone.”
“How’s that going to work if you can’t hold the green spray?” Bernard pointed out.
Alan shook his head. “We’ll find another way.”
“What about me?” Spencer said. “I’m probably the smallest in the group.” Technically, Daisy was, but Spencer wasn’t about to suggest that Dez take flight with her. He looked at Dez. “Can you carry me?” He said it like a challenge, knowing that would push the bully into agreeing faster.
Dez scoffed. “Easy!” Before anyone could react, Dez threw his arms around Spencer and leapt into the air.
Chapter 19
“Let’s just see what happens.”
Dez’s Rubbish wings unfurled, bearing Spencer through the thinnest branches of the nearest tree and straight into the starry sky.
When they were well above the treetops, Dez began attempting some aerial acrobatics. He started with a tight barrel roll, causing Spencer’s stomach to heave uncomfortably. Then he cut a wide loop-de-loop, soaring out over the construction site.
“I’m the baddest person who ever lived!” Dez called.
Spencer’s mouth was clamped shut in fear, but he managed to work out a sentence. “Shouldn’t we be more sneaky?”
“Relax, dude.” Dez had leveled out now, and Spencer saw that they were high above the tip of the crane. “I had my eyes on that Rubbish lady the whole time. She was looking the other way.”
Spencer hated knowing that, in this very moment, Dez Rylie was solely in charge of his fate. All the Sweeper kid had to do was open his arms and Spencer would plummet to his certain death. The thought of it caused Spencer’s hand to stray to his janitorial belt. He didn’t know what would save him in a fall, but it felt a little better just to touch a broom handle.
Dez was gliding now, making a big circle above the crane like a vulture over carrion. Spencer could finally see the Rubbish Sweeper. She was a fat woman squatting at the very tip of the long, angled crane arm. She looked odd, balancing there with her wings tucked back. Spencer half expected her to topple at any moment.
“How close can you get me before she spots us?” Spencer whispered. He wasn’t sure if his voice had carried in the wind until Dez responded.
“You worry too much about the details.” Dez looked down at Spencer, a horrible look of mischief in his bloodshot eyes. “Let’s just see what happens.”
Dez’s wings folded back and he went into a steep dive. The rushing air stole Spencer’s breath as they zoomed down behind the unsuspecting Sweeper.
When they were still some distance away, Dez pulled up hard, his wings snapping out and catching the wind like sails. “I’ll handle this one,” Dez said. Then his arms opened, and Spencer fell hard onto the angled arm of the crane.
It should have knocked the wind out of him, but Spencer’s Glopified jumpsuit absorbed the impact and he felt no pain. Still, he let out a cry of fear and surprise. There was really no way to hold it in at such a terrifying height. Spencer clung to the metal crane arm as he tipped his head to see the Sweeper above him. She leapt to her feet with surprising agility for a woman of her size. Her wings curled outward to steady her as pink eyes honed on Spencer, who was clinging helplessly a few feet down.
The Sweeper’s taloned hand reached for the walkie-talkie at her side. No sooner had she unclipped it from her belt than Dez Rylie struck like a diving falcon. His force knocked her from the tip of the crane, and she reeled in the air for a moment before her own wings caught her fall.
Her walkie-talkie clattered down the crane arm. Spencer reached out, but it bounced over the edge, spiraling toward the construction site below. Spencer watched the little black device fall, illuminated by the floodlights.
When the walkie-talkie was about twelve feet from the ground, it struck the invisible force field that spanned the top of the chain-link fence. Magic rippled like water disturbed by a thrown stone. It sent an audible hum across the entire construction site, lighting up the whole force field for one brief second. Then the walkie-talkie exploded into unrecognizable fragments.
Spencer’s eyes were wide. Agnes wasn’t joking about the Glopified fence. His grip around the crane arm tightened as he realized that a fall would completely obliterate him.
The exploding walkie-talkie would have surely alerted the two Sweeper guards at the gate. But Spencer couldn’t worry about them at the moment. The Sweeper was flapping her wings. She didn’t look very graceful or experienced, but that didn’t stop her from rising toward Spencer’s precarious position on the crane.
Spencer cast his eyes around frantically. “Dez!” he yelled. Stealth was no longer a thought in his mind. “Where are you?”
From somewhere below, Spencer heard the kid’s voice. “Just let go, Doofus! I’ll probably catch you!”
“Probably?” Spencer yelled. There was no way he was letting go. The plan was shot and time was ticking away. If they didn’t spray the Sweeper soon, the green solution would be unable to erase the whole skirmish from her mind.
The fat Rubbish woman shrieked below him. Her wings painstakingly bore her plump body up toward Spencer and the crane.
With sweaty hands, Spencer drew his green spray bottle. He figured he’d have one good shot before the Sweeper reached him. If he hit her, she would plummet down and explode in the force field. He didn’t like the idea, but did he have a choice?
Dez suddenly flapped up beside him, feet finding purchase on the tilted crane arm.
“Give me that green spray,” he said. “She’s so slow, I think I can blast her in midflight.”
“I thought your clumsy hands couldn’t hold on to anything,” Spencer said.
Dez shrugged. “That was before.” He reached down and easily plucked the spray bottle from Spencer’s grasp. “I just didn’t feel like carrying Penny.”
Spencer didn’t have time to yell at Dez for lying. In the next moment, the fat Sweeper rose into view, her sharp fingers reaching out for Spencer.
Dez aimed the spray bottle and shot a stream of green solution into the woman’s face. Her pink eyes rolled back as consciousness slipped away from her. Then her leathery wings spasmed, one of them catching Spencer across the shoulder and knocking him back. He slipped from the crane arm and found himself in a gut-wrenching free fall.
The unconscious Sweeper flopped through the air beside him, the two of them falling so close together that Spencer could have reached out and touched her. He scrambled for a broom at his belt, but the fall was petrifying as he rushed toward the force field.
Spencer w
as bracing himself to be blown to bits when a dark shadow passed overhead. He was jerked around, slamming into the round body of the unconscious Sweeper. Then Spencer was lifted away, dangling upside down by his right foot and pressed uncomfortably close to the large Sweeper woman.
Dez was carrying them both! Spencer could see the bully’s face in the floodlights, and he didn’t even look strained by the effort of bearing two people into the sky.
In a moment, they were back at the top of the crane, where Dez dumped the large Sweeper woman in a heap. Spencer thought she would roll right off, but her wings kept her draped there like a dirty rag on a faucet. He hoped they’d been fast enough for the green spray to work. Assuming it had, the Sweeper would wake up with no memory of the fight, wondering where her walkie-talkie had gone.
“What was that all about?” Spencer yelled. Dez was now holding both of his ankles as they soared back toward the Rebels at the gate.
“Oh, you mean that part where I saved your life?” Dez said.
“No,” said Spencer. “I mean that part where you weren’t strong enough to pick up Penny, but you had no problem holding me and that fat lady!”
Dez made a face. “I told you, I really didn’t want to carry Penny. She wouldn’t have let me try out my flight skills. But I knew you couldn’t stop me.”
Spencer raged silently, upside down, until Dez deposited him at the gate where the other Rebels were waiting. Penny was standing over the Filth Sweeper and the Grime Sweeper. Both of them were unconscious, with droplets of green spray on their faces.
“They shouldn’t remember a thing when they wake up,” Penny said.
Daisy turned to Spencer and Dez. “What happened up there?”
“We got our Sweeper,” Dez reported.
He made it sound so simple. Spencer was about to elaborate when the Filth Sweeper’s walkie-talkie sounded.
“Edwards,” said an unfamiliar crackly voice. “You got action in the construction site?”
The Rebels all stared at one another for a stunned moment.
“Edwards? If you don’t answer, I’m sending someone to your location.”
Spencer didn’t know where the person was calling from. He didn’t know how long it would take to send reinforcements. All he knew was that the Sweeper called Edwards would not be answering the call.
Chapter 20
“A classic American chocolate.”
Edwards!” The voice on the other end of the walkie-talkie sounded irritated.
Bernard dropped to his knees and unclipped the Sweeper’s radio. Lifting it to his mouth, the garbologist pressed the button and spoke. “Hello. Yes! Edwards here. We are all right now. We are A-OK. Fine and dandy.” He paused, then added, “Thank you for asking.”
It was silent on the walkie-talkie for a moment. Then the voice said, “Our sensors showed a shock wave at your location. Looks like something hit the force field.”
Bernard swallowed hard and continued. “Umm. Yes. Something did hit the force field, now that you mention it.”
“Well?” the voice on the other end was growing impatient. “What was it?”
Bernard’s eyes flicked around the surrounding area, and Spencer could see he was scrambling for any kind of help that could get them out of this. Then the garbologist smiled and gave an answer.
“It was a toasted marshmallow.”
Penny smacked Bernard softly on the back of the head. He looked at her with an innocent expression. Taking his finger away from the button, he whispered to her. “Maybe I’m hungry, okay?”
“A toasted marshmallow?” asked the voice.
“Yes indeed,” Bernard answered into the radio. “And I’ve got graham crackers and Hershey’s chocolate to go with it.”
“The boss would clean you up if he knew you were messing around with the force field again,” said the voice. “He’ll be back any minute, and I’ve got half a mind to tell him that you’ve been making s’mores!”
“Sorry,” Bernard said. “I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Better not,” said the voice. Then, “Over and out.” The walkie-talkie went silent, and Bernard clipped it back onto the Sweeper’s belt.
“S’mores?” Penny yelled. “What the heck was that?”
Bernard bent down, lifting a brown paper from the dirt. It was an empty Hershey’s wrapper, and, by the look of it, someone had tried to grind it into the dirt with the heel of a shoe.
“Hershey’s bar,” Bernard said. “A classic American chocolate.”
He dropped the wrapper and carefully plucked something small out of the dirt beside it. Spencer squinted to see it clearly. It looked like the broken corner of a cookie.
“Graham crackers and milk make a wonderful snack,” Bernard said. “But the presence of the chocolate could mean only one thing: s’mores.”
“What about the marshmallows?” Daisy asked.
Bernard grinned, picking up a thin stick with a bit of sticky white residue on the tip. To Spencer’s horror, he licked the gooey marshmallow remnants. “Jet Puffed, if I had to guess. This is recent, and I don’t smell a campfire. The only other heat source is that Glopified fence.” Bernard shrugged and dropped the stick. “It seemed logical that the Sweeper had tried it before. Guard duty can be mighty boring, and sometimes you need a midnight snack.”
“Wow,” Daisy said, clearly amazed by the garbologist’s ability to read what others took for trash. Penny just rolled her eyes.
“We should get moving,” said Alan. “How long before the Sweepers wake up?”
“Fifteen minutes,” Walter said. “Twenty at the most.”
“That doesn’t give us much time to maneuver through the construction site and get inside that Port-a-Potty,” Alan remarked. “Agnes said the place is probably riddled with mines. One false step could send a load of Agitated Toxites at us.”
“We can’t afford a fight in there,” Walter said. “If even a single mop string hits that force field, it’ll blow up in our hands.”
Penny tightened her janitorial belt. “We’ll just have to watch our step.”
“What about a flashlight?” Spencer asked. “We could use a Glopified flashlight to scan for traps.”
Spencer was pleased that his idea was met with nods of agreement. Alan dug a small flashlight from his belt pouch. But when he flicked the switch, nothing happened. The light was designed to be dim unless illuminating another magical object. But even when Alan pointed it directly at the Glopified fence, which they knew was charged, they couldn’t see the beam clearly.
“Is it on?” Daisy asked.
Bernard leaned around and peered directly into the flashlight. He drew back squinting. “Definitely on and working,” said the garbologist.
“Then why can’t we see the beam?” Alan asked.
Bernard glanced around the perimeter of the construction site. “It must be the floodlights. They’re so bright they’re masking the flashlight.”
“I’ll fly up there and punch my fist through the big lights,” Dez said, flexing his talons.
“Why are you so destructive?” Daisy asked. “Why can’t you just turn them off like a regular person?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Dez said.
“Looks like there are five banks of floodlights positioned around the outside of the fence,” Walter said. “If you can shut them down, that should do the trick.”
But Spencer didn’t like this. He didn’t want Dez to feel any more powerful than he already did. Spencer judged the distance up to the first floodlight. It was easily within broom range.
While Dez went on boasting about how fast he would be able to shut off the lights, Spencer unclipped a broom, sprinted two steps, and rocketed up to the first floodlight.
After his experience on the crane, the height didn’t seem nearly as frightening. He reached out and grabbed the light post, reigning himself in. He felt the intense heat from the row of lights and was grateful to be perched on the post behind them.
Now
that he was up there, Spencer wasn’t sure how to shut them off. As his broom regained gravity and he settled uncomfortably in his perch, Dez’s idea of smashing the lights suddenly seemed half-decent.
Then he saw a little fuse box mounted behind the right side of the light. There was a small metal cover on it, but Spencer knew immediately what it was. His siblings had tripped the breakers at Aunt Avril’s house enough times that Spencer was well acquainted with the fuse box there.
He had to lean an uncomfortable distance to reach the little door. From this angle, he could see that there was a slot in the metal covering just large enough to reach a finger through and trip the switch. It was stiff, but he managed to flip it off with an audible click.
Immediately, the lights on his pole went dark. Pleased with his success, Spencer pulled his hand away from the fuse box. The moment he released the switch, it clicked back and the floodlight kicked on again, startling Spencer so much that he nearly fell from his perch.
“What’s going on up there?” Bernard called.
“There’s a switch,” Spencer answered. “But it won’t stay off!”
“Can you tape it down?” asked Walter.
It was a good idea, but the slot in the metal covering was barely big enough for his finger. He’d never be able to get a strip of duct tape in place. “There’s a covering.”
“See?” Dez shouted. “You need me to smash it!”
“What about Windex?” his dad said. “If you turn the cover to glass and break it, could you get some tape in there?”
Spencer looked down. Leaning as he was, the force-field fence was directly below him. A single shard of glass could cause another explosion, and Spencer didn’t think the Sweepers in the lab would believe another s’more story from Bernard.
“It’s not going to work,” he said. “The only way this light is staying off is if I hang out up here and hold the switch.”
Penny had moved off during the conversation, drawing a broom from her belt and floating up to the next light pole. As she reached out, her set of floodlights darkened momentarily. But it didn’t last.
[Janitors 04] Strike of the Sweepers Page 9