Heroes of the Dustbin Page 16

  Spencer led his companions past the gate, pausing at the corner of the guard tower, waiting for Rho to tell them it was safe to continue. Daisy was breathing nervously at his side, but Dez just kept sniffing the air through his beaklike nose.

  “Mmmmm,” he muttered. “Do you guys smell that? I think somebody’s baking cookies.”

  “All I smell is the ocean,” Daisy said.

  “Oh, no,” Spencer groaned, realizing what was happening. He pulled off his dust mask and tossed it to Dez. “Put this on, quick.”

  Dez didn’t bother to catch the mask; it bounced off his chest and fell to the ground. “No way. I don’t want to look dorky like you two. Besides, Toxite breath doesn’t affect me.”

  “It’s not the Toxite breath,” Spencer explained. “That smell you’re picking up is Marv’s toilet-bowl cleaner!”

  “The toilet-bowl cleaner smells like baking cookies?” Daisy asked.

  “It does to him,” Spencer said. “Marv spread the powdered cleaner on the electric fence to draw the Sweepers away.” He pointed to the exodus of Sweepers making their way hungrily to the far fence. Spencer and Daisy couldn’t smell anything, but the vintage Toxite attractant worked surprisingly well on the Sweepers.

  “I’ve got to have some!” Dez said. “Before those other guys eat it all!” He spread his wings and leapt into the air. He didn’t get far, as Daisy’s Palm Blast of vacuum dust dropped him to the ground.

  Spencer maneuvered around the bully and strapped his dust mask over the boy’s face. It barely fit over his beak of a nose. “There are no cookies,” Spencer said.

  Rho’s voice came through the walkie-talkie. “You’re clear to enter the first two rows of units. Marv’s still searching for the other suds. I’ll let you know when they’re glass.”

  Spencer peeked around the corner to make sure that the Sweepers were still facing away. Then he led a sprint to the first row of storage units. The three kids stopped with their backs to a cinder-block wall.

  “Let’s open the first squeegee,” Spencer said. “Rho’s ready for us.”

  Dez misted the wall, but the magic Windex seemed to fizzle out, unable to transform the cinder block to glass. “Not working,” he muttered.

  Spencer had assumed this might happen. “The units are Glopified. They don’t want us turning the walls to glass.”

  “Then how do we make the portal?” Daisy asked, waving her squeegee uselessly.

  Spencer removed the spit sponge from his belt. This part was nasty. It didn’t matter how many times he’d done it, the task was gross. As he squeezed the sponge, a dribble of his spit leaked out into his left hand. He replaced the sponge and clapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly to activate the Glop that lingered in his bodily fluids.

  In a moment, both hands were glowing with a golden Aura. His right had the power to Glopify, but Spencer’s left hand was the one needed for this task.

  He reached out and pressed his left palm against the wall. He felt the Glop leak out of the cinder blocks, and he knew he’d succeeded as the Aura faded from his hands.

  “Try it now,” Spencer said.

  “Why don’t you just de-Glopify all the units?” Dez asked. “Then we could turn the doors to glass and break them.”

  “Spitting on every door would take way too long,” Spencer said. “I’d have to use the sponge between each one. Then we’d have to follow up with the Windex, and the moment we shattered one door, the Sweepers would be on to us.” He shook his head. “We have to open all the units at the same time. Stick to the original plan.”

  “Gee,” Dez said. “Sorry I had an idea.” He turned his bottle of Windex back to the cinder block and gave a few sprays. As the de-Glopfied wall turned to glass, the storage unit beyond appeared to be vacant.

  Daisy followed up with a swipe of her squeegee. The portal opened, connecting the cinder-block wall to the conference room at the landfill.

  Spencer stared at Rho, standing states away. “The entire facility is clear,” she said. “The rest of the suds are glass, so the Witches will have no idea we’re here.” Rho glanced at a clock on the wall of the conference room. “Marv has only about four minutes of invisibility left. Not long after that, the suds will become active again. He’ll try to keep the Sweepers distracted, but you have to hurry.”

  Rho pushed a pair of cleaning carts through the portal. They rolled through the cinder-block wall and came to a stop at Spencer’s feet.

  “Whatever happens,” Spencer said, turning to Dez, “do not let this portal close. In a couple of minutes there are going to be a lot of defenseless prisoners on the loose. We have to give them somewhere safe to go.”

  Daisy gave her squeegee to the Sweeper boy in case he needed to swipe again.

  There was a rippling shock wave of magic that raced along the electric fence. “Looks like one Sweeper got too close,” Spencer said. The vintage toilet-bowl cleaner was doing its job. But the powdery stuff was really old. There was no telling how long the attractant would last.

  It was time to put a few new Glopified supplies to the test.

  Chapter 27

  “We have to find him.”

  Spencer reached down to his belt and removed a new aerosol spray. He’d used his spit sponge to Glopify it last night. All the tests had worked perfectly, and now it was time to put it to use in the real world.

  It was stainless steel polish, a convenient item for any janitor who wanted to keep metal appliances shiny and clean. Of course, the Glopified version would do more than make the metal sparkle.

  “I thought we couldn’t spray the locks or walls,” Dez said.

  Daisy hefted her own can of polish. “Are you sure this will work?” she asked Spencer. “It’s not like it can open locks.”

  “That’s exactly why it’ll work,” Spencer said, trying to boost his own confidence. “Sprays like Windex change whatever they touch. The BEM designed the storage units to repel that kind of spray. The locks are basically indestructible.” He held up his aerosol can. “But this is just polish. All we have to do is make the locks shiny.”

  Dez grunted. “I’m glad I came along to see this.” His voice was thick with sarcasm. “I bet the prisoners inside will be thrilled to have shiny locks.”

  Spencer ignored the comment, stepping onto the back of the janitorial cart, his feet finding their familiar place on the motion-sensitive base. “You take the first three rows,” Spencer said as Daisy stepped onto her cart. “I’ll get the others.”

  She nodded to show her understanding. Then Spencer leaned forward, and the janitorial cart responded by picking up speed. He raced past the rows that he’d left to Daisy and then turned a corner, lining himself up to drive down one side.

  As he sped forward, Spencer pushed the nozzle of his Glopified can, sending a mist of stainless steel polish at the metal lock in the door. Instantly, the round lock twinkled in the bright sun, polished to a glare from the Glopified spray.

  Spencer moved on, driving just fast enough to get the job done quickly but accurately. The Glopified polish moistened each lock, removing any rust or grit and brightening the metal to a beautiful shine. When he was done with the row, Spencer wheeled around, doubling back down the aisle and polishing the locks on the opposing storage unit doors.

  Spencer skidded around a corner, leaning hard as he blasted the polish along the next row of units. His accuracy and speed improved despite his finger growing tired from the repetitive motion of pressing the spray can’s nozzle.

  He didn’t know how much time the task was taking. He only knew that they had to get them all before the fifteen-minute polish effect wore off. Marv was surely visible by now, and the suds would be progressively turning back into their soapy surveillance.

  Spencer could see the end of the storage units. He shook his bottle to make sure there was enough polish for the remaining locks. There were maybe a dozen left, when his janitorial cart jerked to a halt with such force that he was thrown from his ride and sent tumb
ling across the pavement.

  His Glopified coveralls protected him from the road rash, but the force still left him gasping for air, the aerosol can flung from his grasp. Spencer scrambled for the polish, but before his hand could close around it, a foot came down on his wrist.

  “Did you really think you could succeed?” General Clean asked. He must have dropped down from the roof of the storage units, using his sticky tongue to topple Spencer’s cart. Clean stooped and retrieved the fallen can of polish, holding it carelessly in his sticky fingers. “With this?”

  “It was working,” Spencer replied. “We hit more than five hundred locks before you guys even noticed we were here.”

  General Clean removed his foot from Spencer’s wrist and took a step back toward the wreckage of the janitorial cart. “It did you no good,” Clean said. “Whatever this polish was designed to do, it has clearly failed.” He held up the aerosol can as if it were a child’s toy. Clean gestured toward the storage-unit prisons. “Our Witches developed the formula to Glopify those locks. The prisons are quite secure. Your metal polish could never hope to open those locks.”

  “I wasn’t trying to open the locks,” Spencer admitted, reaching into his belt pouch for a new Glopified item to make its debut. “I just needed something shiny for my magnet.”

  Spencer pulled the magnet from his pouch. It was black and round, just smaller than a hockey puck.

  Marv had been the first to point out that stainless steel was not magnetic. That would have been a problem if the magnet were ordinary. This one was Glopified, and Spencer’s invention had a pull stronger than any regular magnet. Of course, it worked only on metal items that were shiny and polished.

  The moment the Glopified magnet cleared his belt pouch, the magic activated. A silver force field shimmered like an orb around the magnet, encompassing Spencer’s entire hand. The polished metal locks responded instantly. They ripped from the doors, whizzing through the air like bullets as the magnet pulled them in.

  General Clean dropped to the ground, seeking cover from the flying locks, as Spencer leapt onto the wall of the nearest storage unit. His Glopified rubber boots adhered expertly to the vertical surface, and in five quick steps, he had run straight up the wall. Standing on the roof, Spencer held the magnet above his head like a victory torch.

  He hoped the Rebels inside the storage units were keeping their heads low, because the magnetic locks were taking the most direct course to Spencer’s hand, smashing through walls and cinder block to reach the boy on the roof.

  The polished locks struck the glowing magnetic orb with a resounding ping! The Glopified pull drew them in from all across the compound until Spencer’s hand, safe within the silvery magic, was the center of a giant ball of metal locks.

  Spencer’s arm slumped under the weight as the locks continued flying in. The mission was a success! All around the compound, the storage unit doors began to open. Where once a Glopified lock had kept them closed, now there was a gaping hole in each door.

  On all sides below him, Spencer saw the faces of the Rebel prisoners, squinting against the sudden sunlight. It took them only a moment to realize that this was their chance for escape. The entire complex filled with the cries of the freed prisoners as they pushed open their broken doors and flooded out into the aisles. Spencer heard Marv, Daisy, and Dez directing the prisoners toward the squeegee exit.

  General Clean gave a cry of rage and hurled the can of polish aside. His Grime tongue shot out, catching Spencer’s arm with such force that he tumbled from the roof of the storage unit. His coveralls protected him, but in the shock of falling, Spencer had no choice but to release his grip on the magnet and its heavy payload. His hand slid out of the glowing magnetic orb, and the mess of polished locks hit the ground with a metallic thud. But the task was already done.

  The aisles were now crowded with freed prisoners, and Spencer fell back into the throng. He unclipped a mop from his belt, turning back to find General Clean. But the big Sweeper was lost in the crowd.

  “This way!” Spencer rallied, drawing the Rebels down the aisle to the spot where Dez would be waiting at the portal. Spencer scanned the escapees, anxious to see the familiar faces of his friends, desperate to see his family. But he saw only the nervous faces of strangers in his aisle.

  The toilet-bowl cleaner had surely worn off, and whatever further distraction Marv had been attempting could not keep the Sweepers on the island from noticing that the prisoners were escaping.

  The enemy approached quickly, and as Spencer ran toward the portal, he saw skirmishes breaking out on every row. The Sweepers were doing whatever was necessary to stop the Rebels from escaping. Spencer grimaced as he saw an unarmed Rebel struck down by a Filth Sweeper. Near the second row, a cluster of defenseless Rebels were attempting to overpower a Rubbish Sweeper. The attempt was short-lived as the strong Sweeper threw the Rebels back like rag dolls.

  At last, the squeegee portal came into view. Dez hovered above the opening, ready to grapple with any other Sweepers that might draw near. Marv, now fully visible, stood before the portal, ushering Rebels through to the landfill. Dez must have given a few extra swipes with the squeegee, because the portal was wide enough for three prisoners to pass through at once.

  Rho was on the other side, frantically passing Glopified weapons back through to a group of Rebel prisoners who now stood to defend the portal.

  A Filth Sweeper came rolling forward like a ball of spikes. Spencer shouted a warning to the portal defenders as double mops lashed out, throwing the Sweeper aside. Penny twirled her weapons, blowing a strand of red hair from her face.

  Spencer couldn’t help but grin when he saw her. Even with borrowed mops from Marv’s belt, Penny looked dangerous and agile.

  Pushing past the ring of Rebel defenders and through a mass of jittery prisoners, Spencer neared the squeegee portal. It took him a moment to find Daisy among the crowd. When he did, his heart swelled with relief.

  Mr. and Mrs. Gates were holding tightly to their only child as Daisy led them toward the portal. They appeared uninjured and relieved to be reunited, despite the current danger. The image of the Gates family only caused Spencer to wonder again if his own family was safe.

  The Rebels were pouring through the magical doorway in the cinder block. More than half of them had reached safety, but the dwindling throng drew the enemy Sweepers closer. Spencer pitched a Funnel Throw of vacuum dust overhead and saw a Rubbish Sweeper go down under the suction.

  “Nice throw,” said a calming voice behind Spencer. He whirled around to find his dad, helping his mom and siblings over to the portal.

  Alan Zumbro pulled his son into a sideways hug. “I think you have a knack for rescuing me from prison.”

  Spencer smiled. “You have a knack for getting caught.”

  “There wasn’t much I could do,” Alan said. “I had to stay with your mother. The Sweepers had the house surrounded.”

  “This probably isn’t the best time to tell you, but . . .” Spencer swallowed. “There is no more house. Clean dissolved it with some Glopified drain cleaner.”

  “What?” Alice shouted as she passed Spencer’s little brother through the squeegee portal. His mom looked a bit frazzled, but Spencer was proud of her for keeping it together. Alice sighed. “Your aunt’s going to kill me.” Then she stepped through the portal, staying close to her children.

  Daisy came alongside Spencer and his dad. “I haven’t seen him,” she said. “I don’t think Bernard is here.”

  “He has to be,” answered Spencer, scanning the remaining faces of the Rebels. “We saw him in one of the suds.” Then he remembered the unopened storage units. General Clean had attacked before Spencer had had time to reach the end of the row. He felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. Without thinking it through, Spencer took a step in the direction of the locked units.

  Alan caught his son’s arm. “Where are you going?”

  “I didn’t get them all,” Spencer answered. “Bern
ard must be trapped in one of the units at the end of the last row. We have to find him.”

  Alan reached out and unclipped a pushbroom from Spencer’s belt, nodding for his son to show the way. Daisy readied her plunger, preparing to join Spencer and his dad as they pushed through the line of Rebel defenders and past the attacking Sweepers.

  “Dez!” Spencer yelled. “Give us some cover!”

  “You got it!” answered the flying boy. He straightened himself in midair, working up a belch. Then he ripped off his dust mask and let it out, spewing a black cloud of grit over the BEM Sweepers.

  In the concealing haze, Spencer rushed forward, his dustpan shield plowing past a Grime Sweeper. A moment later, Spencer was leading Daisy and his dad on a dead sprint down the rows of storage units.

  They rounded the final corner and Spencer saw the wreckage of the janitorial cart. Beside it was the Glopified stainless steel polish. He gathered up the aerosol can and sprayed the liquid over the lock on the nearest storage unit. But the lock stayed motionless. The magnet should have ripped it away!

  “Look for the magnet!” Spencer called, racing the final distance and polishing each remaining lock until all were sparkling in the sunlight.

  Daisy fell to her knees, scouring the aisle. The area was littered with hundreds of bent locks that were no longer attracted to the Glopified magnet. The polish had worn off and the locks were now a dull and rusty metal.

  “It’s not here!” Daisy shouted.

  Of course it wasn’t. If the magnet had been lying out in the open, the recently polished locks would have pulled out of the doors, flying to attach themselves to it.

  “It’s gone,” Spencer muttered. As long as the magnet was completely covered, it wouldn’t work. “Somebody must have picked it up and put it in their pocket.”

  “Not a pocket,” answered the rich, deep voice of General Clean. “A fist.” He held out his slimy hand, the Glopified magnet presumably clenched tightly between his partially webbed fingers. The Sweeper General smiled. “Hello again, Alan.”