Spencer coughed out his stale old breath and took another. The dust was thick, and he felt his fingertips start to tingle. Spencer grabbed Dez by the shirt, but there was no way he could lift the bully. Especially since Spencer’s legs had stopped working.
He needed a broom to fly them out. Spencer cast his fingers around in the bleakness. His hand gripped something long and wooden. A handle. He dragged it closer ...
A mop!
What good was a mop in a desperate situation like this? Spencer instinctively flicked the strings around Dez’s ankles. A broom would have been so much better, but there was no time to be picky. Air was running short.
Turning away from Dez, Spencer began the painstaking task of dragging himself across the library floor. He gripped the mop handle, flicking out more length on the strings behind him as he crawled. At last, with his lungs almost bursting, Spencer pulled himself out the door and into the November night.
Walter was waiting. He grabbed Spencer and lifted him away from the billowing chalk cloud. “What’s this?” The warlock janitor looked down at the long wooden handle in Spencer’s grip.
“Hang on ...” Spencer managed between fits of coughs. Walter grabbed the handle as Daisy and the hooded lady approached. The mop’s head stretched back into the library, the strings disappearing in the white fog.
Then the mop strings began to reel in, followed by a tremendous crashing sound from inside the library. It was like something heavy was being dragged across the library floor. Not something—someone.
Spencer waited, hopeful. He had regained the use of his legs, but he still leaned heavily on Walter. At last, a figure tumbled through the threshold and the library door clicked shut.
“It worked,” Spencer managed to say, still gasping for breath. At their feet lay the still, white form of Dez Rylie, the last of the mop strings unwinding from his ankles.
Chapter 8
“I don’t mind him like this.”
What’s the matter with him?” Spencer asked, leaning on Daisy for support. Walter carried Dez’s limp form across the parking lot to where the janitor’s van idled, the hooded lady in the driver’s seat.
“He’ll be fine,” Walter said. “Those chalkboard eraser bombs are something the BEM invented. I picked up the Glop formula and made a few of my own. They cause temporary paralysis in Toxites ... and people.”
“Is that what was happening to my legs?” Spencer said.
“Exactly.” Walter loaded Dez into the back of the van. “If you had stayed in there any longer, you’d be just like him. What were you thinking, rushing in like that?”
Spencer looked down. Why was Walter reprimanding him? He’d saved Dez from the chalk bomb, hadn’t he?
“You had no idea what you were up against,” Walter said. “That chalk cloud could have been fatal, for all you knew.”
Spencer hadn’t considered the consequences. He’d simply seen a problem and rushed in to fix it. He was used to acting on his own. But now that Walter was back, shouldn’t Spencer have turned to him for help?
“So Dez is okay?” Daisy asked. “He’ll get better?”
“Of course,” Walter said. “He should be back to normal in an hour or so.”
Daisy peered at Dez’s dusty form. “Actually, I don’t mind him like this,” she said. “He’s not so bad when he can’t move. Can’t we make it last a little longer?”
“It would have lasted a lot longer if Spencer hadn’t rescued him,” Walter said. “I had no idea there was another person in the library. I threw two erasers in there. That could have paralyzed this kid for more than a day.” The bald warlock looked at Dez’s still form. “The erasers were our last resort, but there were just too many Toxites to fight.”
“I thought we were doomed for sure,” Daisy said. “You showed up just in time.”
“Thanks to Meredith,” Walter answered. “This morning, she phoned me about a suspicious BEM electrician. When the same electrician came to the orchestra concert, Meredith called me again. By that time, I was already in Welcher, grabbing a bite to eat. I came immediately to the library when Meredith said you might be in danger.”
“You were already in Welcher?” Spencer repeated. His first thought was about his father. What if Walter had come to tell him more information about his dad?
“I’ve come to warn you.” Walter lowered his voice. “The BEM is sending a dozen men to Welcher. They’ll be here by Monday.”
“What?” Daisy said. “Why?”
The warlock janitor took a deep breath. “They’re coming for you, Spencer.”
The boy took an unsteady step backward. “Me?” he muttered. He wanted Walter to keep talking, but the hooded young lady in the driver’s seat interrupted them.
“We’ve got to roll,” she said, “before anyone finds out we were here.”
Walter gestured for Spencer and Daisy to climb into the back of the van next to Dez. “But wait,” Spencer said. “What’s happening? What do you mean, the BEM is coming for me?”
Walter silenced him, glancing nervously around the dark parking lot. “Whoever dumped that Agitation Bucket could still be around, listening. It will be best if we discuss things in the privacy of your home.” The warlock motioned to the van again. The kids climbed in, careful not to step on Dez’s prone form.
It was exciting to see the old warlock again. But Spencer and Daisy both knew this wasn’t a social call. The BEM was up to something. That was clear from the Agitation Bucket in the school library. Spencer couldn’t help but feel that Walter’s arrival meant the beginning of new dangers.
Daisy extended a finger and slowly poked Dez’s ample stomach. “Do you think he can feel that?” she asked.
But Spencer was caught up in his own thoughts. He tried again to coax more information out of Walter, but the warlock was busy giving the driver directions. Then, pulling out a cell phone, Walter got in touch with Meredith and asked her to gather the Glopified equipment from the library once the chalk cloud settled.
The janitorial van pulled into the lavish driveway of Aunt Avril’s Hillside Estates home. The Zumbros were house-sitting for a year, which meant that Aunt Avril and Uncle Wyatt would probably need to remodel when they returned. The rambunctious Zumbro children had already done irreversible damage to the hardwood floor and the walls. Not to mention the toenail polish spilled on the carpet and the burn marks on the banister.
Walter opened the back door of the van, allowing Spencer and Daisy to climb out.
“Let’s get him inside,” Walter said, taking Dez under the arms. Spencer grabbed the bully’s ankles, careful not to touch his grungy sneakers. Moving around the van, they waddled up the driveway.
Alice met them at the door, her face a mixture of shock at seeing Walter and worry at seeing Dez. The warlock greeted Mrs. Zumbro professionally, his voice aimed to calm her nerves.
“So ...” Alice raised her eyebrows at Spencer. “Looks like the orchestra concert was interesting.” Then she retreated into the house, herding Spencer’s siblings downstairs to watch TV.
Spencer and Walter laid Dez on the leather couch, a puff of chalk powder rising from his motionless form. Alice entered from the kitchen, and, a few moments later, Walter’s assistant appeared with a box of equipment.
“About time for an introduction, I think.” Walter gestured to the young woman in the letter jacket. “This is my niece, Penny.”
Penny smiled and pulled back her hood. She had a smattering of ruddy freckles across her thin face. Her eyes were a startling green and seemed to show a glint of adventure. Short, fiery red hair framed her face nicely. Spencer took an involuntary step back.
It was her! The young woman he had seen asleep in the passenger seat of a vehicle. Spencer recalled the vision with startling clarity. He had been driving, with the hands of an old man. Spencer looked back at Walter, glancing at the warlock’s hands. Was it possible? Had he been looking through Walter Jamison’s eyes?
“Spencer?” Walter said. “Is so
mething wrong?”
Spencer looked back at Penny. “It’s just ... I thought ...” He swallowed hard. “Have we met before?”
Penny shook her head. “I would remember meeting the famous Spencer Zumbro. Walter has told me everything about you.” Penny’s smile faded under Spencer’s shocked gaze. Finally, she turned away and sat down on the sofa.
“Penny has worked as a part-time janitor since she was a senior in high school,” Walter said. “That was, what, two years ago?”
Daisy was looking at Penny’s letter jacket. “Did you play football or something?”
Penny smiled. “Gymnastics,” she said. “I did a bit of that in high school.”
“Don’t be humble,” Walter said. “My niece was the state champion in tumbling, vault, and balance beam.”
“Wow,” Daisy said. “You should try out for the Olympics! Can you do a backflip?”
“She’s been backflipping since she was eight,” Walter answered.
Penny shrugged. “Gymnastics is fun ... but karate is more my thing.”
“Cool!” Daisy didn’t bother to hide her admiration. “Can you break boards with your forehead?”
Penny pretended to scoff. “I break boards with my pinkie.” She lifted her little finger. Daisy totally fell for it.
“Anyway,” Walter cut in, “Penny’s an expert Toxite fighter. She’s been a big help to me over the past month with all my travels. We’ve been a lot of places, seen a lot of things ...”
“What have you learned about Alan?” It was Alice who asked the question. Spencer had wanted to, but he was worried that the answer might be ...
“Nothing yet, I’m afraid,” Walter said. “We haven’t had much time to investigate. I’ve been too busy Glopifying new tools and supplying gear to the Rebel Janitors. The BEM is on the move. They’re hitting all the Rebel schools. But I got word that they’re on their way to Welcher for another reason.” Walter looked at Spencer. “They think you have something. They’re coming to get it from you.”
“What?” Spencer asked. “What could I have that the BEM might want? Do they think I still have Ninfa?”
Walter shook his head. He reached into his cargo pocket and withdrew a bronze hammer. It was the hammer that had made Walter Jamison a warlock. There were three magic hammers, created by the Founding Witches and handed down since colonial times. Walter had a bronze nail, too, pounded into his van. His vehicle was the only place where he could experiment with raw magic, creating new formulas to Glopify more janitorial supplies.
Last September, Spencer had used the hammer to pound the nail into the School Board. He had become a warlock for a short time before giving the hammer back to Walter. Did the BEM think he had kept it?
“It’s not Ninfa.” Walter slipped the hammer back into his pocket.
“What, then?” Spencer asked. “What do I have?”
“The BEM doesn’t know exactly what it is. But they think you know.”
“Wait a minute,” Daisy said to Walter. “If you don’t know what it is, and the BEM doesn’t know what it is, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is ... then who knows?”
“Alan Zumbro,” the warlock said. Spencer’s heart gave an extra beat and Alice put a hand on his arm, giving an anxious squeeze. “This has something to do with your father, Spencer. But that’s all anyone can explain.”
Spencer swallowed hard and looked at his mom. “And now the BEM’s coming for me?”
“They’ll be here by Monday,” Penny said. “Come next week, Welcher isn’t going to be the friendly place you know and love. You’ll have BEM workers in disguise around town and bloodthirsty Toxites inside your school.”
“So what do we do?” Daisy asked.
“Leave,” Walter said. “You must leave Welcher until we get things sorted out. A week should do it. The Toxites from the Bucket will have calmed down by then.”
“What about the BEM workers?” Alice said.
“We’re calling in Rebel reinforcements already,” Penny said. “We’ll show the BEM that they aren’t welcome in this town.”
“But where can we go for a week?” asked Spencer.
“I have a grandma in Nevada,” Daisy said.
Walter shook his head. “I can’t send you to stay with relatives. If the BEM tracked you down, you’d have no protection. You need to go someplace secure.”
“A bank!” Daisy said.
Spencer shot her a glance. “We can’t live in a bank for a week.”
“What about the White House?” she said.
“Are you serious?” Spencer rolled his eyes.
“Hey, I’m just trying to brainstorm some secure places.”
Walter held up his hands. “We’ve already done the brainstorming,” he said. “And we have a plan, if you’d let us tell it.”
He rubbed his hands together. “There’s a private school called New Forest Academy. Located in Colorado. They run a recruitment program where students experience a week on campus to see if they would be good candidates to attend the Academy.”
“It may not be as exciting as living in the White House,” Penny said. “But it’s listed as one of the safest schools in the country. You’ll never be alone. You’ll be surrounded by other students and Academy faculty. You’ll even sleep in dormitories on site.”
“Won’t there be Toxites there?” Spencer asked. “Since it’s a school?”
“Toxites at New Forest Academy don’t last long. We’ve got a Rebel Janitor in there. He does a remarkable job keeping the school Toxite-free. It’s the best learning environment you’ll find in the country. When you get there, contact the janitor. Guy by the name of Roger Munroe. He’s a good friend of mine and you can trust him with anything.”
“But I don’t want to go to a different school.” Daisy’s eyes showed that she was on the verge of panic at the thought of leaving Welcher.
“It won’t be permanent,” Penny said. “It’s just for the week. Even if you fit the Academy’s criteria and they want you to study there, you can still turn down the invitation.”
“Exactly,” Walter agreed. “We don’t expect you to move to Colorado. We’re just going to pretend that you’re interested in attending the Academy so you can have a safe week in their facilities.” Walter glanced at Alice. “Of course, we’ll need your support in this.”
Spencer turned to his mom. His hair was still white with chalk dust, his face and hands welted and scratched from the Toxite attack. He was afraid. Afraid of sitting around and letting the BEM come for him. And evidently the hint of fear in Spencer’s eyes convinced Alice.
“I’ll drive them,” she said.
“It’s a long way,” Walter said.
Alice shrugged indifferently. “I’m no stranger to long road trips,” she said. “I can get work off on Monday and I’ll take them to the Academy.”
Of course. It wasn’t enough to simply agree. Alice had to take her support to the next level by personally driving them.
Walter nodded gratefully to Mrs. Zumbro, then turned intently upon Spencer and Daisy. “Everything I’ve read about New Forest Academy says it has a large campus, college style. There should be plenty to see and explore. But I want you to follow one simple rule.” He held up a finger. “Don’t go anywhere alone. Stay with the groups. There’s safety in numbers.”
The intensity in Spencer and Daisy’s eyes caused Walter to lighten up. “And try to relax.” Walter ruffled Spencer’s dusty hair. “New Forest Academy will be safe. Roger will take care of you. I have his word.”
Penny pulled an envelope from her back pocket. “Here’s the paperwork you’ll need to get into the program.” She handed it to Alice. “We printed the forms on the Academy’s website. Getting the necessary signatures was a bit trickier. Normally, students send their applications weeks in advance. A committee reviews the paperwork, and if the student is approved, then a bunch of important people sign it. Well, we didn’t have that kind of time, so we took a few warlock-inspired shortcuts to get the sig
natures on the page. Anyway, fill out the rest of the application and take the papers when you go. You’ll need the signatures to get in.”
Alice opened the envelope to look inside.
“And there should be enough money to cover the cost for the Academy program.” Penny said. “Should be plenty for these two.”
“THREE!”
Everyone in the room jumped. They turned to the leather couch, where they had all but forgotten about the paralyzed Dez.
“Three of us are going to the stupid Academy camp thingy!” Dez was still motionless, but he appeared to have the use of his tongue again. “You’re not leaving me here to get eaten by the Big Evil Monkeys!”
“Big Evil Monkeys?” Spencer said.
“What else could BEM stand for, Doofus?”
Chapter 9
“He’ll mess everything up!”
Dez wouldn’t stop talking until someone propped him up on the couch. Although he’d been lying paralyzed for almost half an hour, he’d heard every word that was said. But hearing and understanding were two different things—especially for Dez.
In the last hour, Dez had been tied up with a mop, floated to the ceiling, held hostage by a stranger, caught in a paralyzing chalk explosion, and hauled helplessly to Spencer’s house in the back of a dark janitorial van. Sure, the bully was tough and insensitive, but even Dez had his limits.
Spencer tried to explain about the janitors from the Bureau of Educational Maintenance. But Dez had regained enough control to shake his head vigorously, white chalk rising in puffs from his buzzed hair.
“I’m not getting left behind to get picked off by ...” Dez stammered, “by janitors with superpowers!”
“They’re not after you,” Walter explained. “The BEM doesn’t even know who you are.”
“Actually,” Daisy said, “they might. Remember? Dez did some dirty work for the BEM back in September.”
Janitors: Secrets of New Forest Academy Page 4