[Janitors 01] Janitors (16 page)

“But that’s not why they made the glove,” Daisy said.

“That’s what worries me,” answered Walter. “By making the glove, the BEM has developed a Glopified object whose sole purpose seems aimed at attacking other humans. That is dangerous experimentation. I hate the thought, but the time may come when experimentation is all we’ll be able to do to keep an upper hand.”

“But you can’t experiment unless you get the hammer back,” Daisy reminded him.

Walter smiled. “Oh, we will get it back.”

“We’ll help,” Spencer offered again. “We already have the BEM’s trust; we could trick Hadley and . . .”

“No!” Walter snapped. His face suddenly looked extra weary. “We’ve already been over this. I don’t want you two getting involved any deeper than you already are.”

Spencer felt a pang of hurt. Didn’t Walter trust them? Wasn’t he impressed by their skills at the ice cream social? Spencer frowned. Jamison was just being stubborn, refusing to accept help from a kid.

Marv suddenly lumbered down the steps, slurping from a bottle of cream soda. “Coast is clear,” he said. “All’s quiet up there. I left several messes that are sure to attract some hungry Toxites.”

Spencer and Daisy followed the two janitors up the stairs. They weren’t training with equipment today. This was a day for observation.

“First thing you’ve got to know about Toxites,” Marv said, keeping his voice very low and gravelly. “They hate being seen. Toxites thrive on being undetectable.”

Spencer suddenly recalled how each time he’d seen a Toxite, the little creature had noticed him staring and scurried away.

“There,” Walter hissed, dropping to a crouch in the middle of the hall. The others followed his example. Spencer and Daisy peered ahead, straining to see what Walter had spotted.

“You see it?” The warlock pointed slowly. Halfway down the hall, a vulture-bat was perched on the edge of a garbage can. “That’s a Rubbish. They feed on trash and litter. Those things can palate almost anything—scraps of food, paper, plastic, rubber . . . you name it.”

“They don’t fly straight, so they’re hard to catch,” Marv added. “Sometimes you can tangle them in a Glopified mop and that’ll crush them. But brooms are best for Rubbishes.”

Walter crept forward, staying close to the wall. The Rubbish had hopped into the trash can and was playing in the piled garbage like it was a birdbath. Walter, bent low, approached the can as the Rubbish dove deeper in search of an unseen treat.

Like a pouncing cat, Walter leapt up, grabbed the garbage sack that lined the can, and tied it closed. No sooner was the top sealed off, however, than the Rubbish tore through the plastic sack, wings pounding. A cold, limp French fry drooped from its hooked beak.

Spencer and Daisy reeled back, frightened by the sudden emergence. The Rubbish flapped down the hallway and around the corner.

Marv strode forward, grinning stupidly. “Thought that’d work?” he asked Walter.

“No,” he answered. “But I wanted to prove something.”

“What?” Marv asked.

“I wanted to show the kids how a skilled
Toxite hunter can approach the creatures nearly undetected.”

“You’re lucky that thing didn’t attack,” Daisy said. “It barely missed your face when it came out of that bag.”

Marv snorted. “Toxites don’t attack people. That Rubbish is totally content in this environment. It inhales your brain waves and exhales apathy.”

“Apathy?” Daisy asked. She’d heard that people exhaled carbon dioxide and plants exhaled oxygen. But what was apathy?

“Apathy is a lack of interest,” Walter said. “When a Rubbish exhales, students nearby suddenly lose the desire to do any work. They become completely disinterested in whatever the teacher is saying. In short, they don’t
want
to learn anything.”

“Oh,” Daisy said, grateful now that she only exhaled carbon dioxide.

“Other than that, Rubbishes don’t attack physically,” Walter said.

“Unless they’re relocated,” Marv said. “A few years back, Toxite scientists from the BEM did experiments to see how the creatures would fare in other environments. But the Toxites don’t like to be moved out of schools. The scientists relocated some to restaurants, business buildings, and a few other locations. As soon as they were released, the Toxites went haywire and started attacking the scientists.

“An innocent bystander saw it. ’Course, she couldn’t see the Toxites, so she thought the scientists were having some kind of spasm or seizure. Looked real creepy. She called an ambulance. Lucky thing, too, since four BEM workers were critically injured. The Toxites escaped, fighting a path all the way back to the school they were taken from. They’re very territorial.”

When Marv finished, Walter glanced disapprovingly at him. “I don’t think that was necessary, Marv Bills,” he said. “We’re teaching the kids to
defend
against the Toxites, not to
fear
them.”

“It’s okay,” Spencer said, but Daisy indeed looked frightened.

“Just thought they might like to know,” Marv said defensively. He trudged down the hall, the other three falling in behind him.

When they reached the corner, Marv stopped, lifting a thick finger to his lips. Spencer and Daisy peered around the corner, eyes scanning the area.

Daisy saw them first—two Grimes relaxing in the drinking fountain. One pale body was curled around the spout where the water came out. The other had flattened its slimy body over the drain and was basking in a pool of stagnant water.

Spencer shuddered, feeling weak in his stomach. He would never,
ever
drink from a school fountain again. He swore to bring a personal water bottle from now on.

“Grimes,” Marv whispered. “The only amphibious Toxite. They prefer moist areas like bathrooms and water fountains. But don’t be surprised if they show up in a classroom. They can go anywhere.”

“What do they eat?” Daisy asked, unable to take her eyes off their nasty little bodies.

“They can live on water alone,” Walter said. “But they eat anything wet. The slimy buildup between tiles or around sinks is like candy to them.”

“Yuck,” Spencer said, trying not to gag. “Kill them already. I can’t stand it.” Could he ever wash his hands at school again? If the sinks were contaminated, what was the use? Even Principal Poach’s instant hand sanitizer wasn’t safe from the Grimes.

“They move fast,” Marv said. “And they use the pipes like a subway system. Best way to sneak up is by coming directly at them. Their eyes are so far apart that Grimes have a small blind spot directly in front of them. That’s why they turn their heads like that.”

Spencer peeked around the corner again. Sure enough, both Grimes were lazily moving their heads back and forth, glazed white eyes half open in their relaxation.

“What are we doing here?” Daisy asked loudly. “Where’s everybody else? Hey, look at that door, it’s
so
cool!” She started walking down the hall toward a classroom door.

“Marv,” Walter scolded. “We’ve waited too long.”

Marv instantly jumped around the corner. The Grimes’ bulbous eyes opened and the creatures scattered. Before Marv reached the drinking fountain, both Grimes had folded and stretched themselves to fit down the tiny holes of the drain.

“Whoa!” Daisy said. “Where am I going?” She turned around and rejoined the group.

“Sorry about that,” Walter said. “Grimes exhale confusion and distraction. They stop kids from understanding simple instructions and often cause the sudden need to get out of your seat and move around. Teachers hate Grime breath. Don’t know about it, but they hate what it makes kids do.”

“I don’t like it either,” Daisy said. “How come Spencer didn’t get confused?”

“Certain Toxites work better on certain students,” Marv answered. “By the time you reach high school, Toxite toxins probably won’t affect you at all. That’s why the critters love younger schools.”

“Sorry we waited so long to chase off the Grimes,” Walter apologized. “We thought we were far enough away that you wouldn’t feel the effects. Apparently not.”

“What I want to know,” Spencer said, “is what would have happened if I wanted a drink?”

“You saw,” said Marv. “They run away.”

Spencer shook his head. “What if I couldn’t see them? What if I was an ordinary student? Would they still scatter?” He was thinking of all the times he’d sipped from a school fountain, wondering if he’d sucked up Grime germs in the process.

“If you can’t see them, they aren’t there,” Walter said.

“No,” Spencer said. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“You’ll see,” Walter replied. “If a Toxite knows it can’t be seen, it’ll stay right where it is, breathing in brain waves.”

Spencer suddenly remembered Principal Poach’s hot-dog fingers reaching through the Rubbish in the peanut can. “What if someone touches them?”

“If they don’t see them, they won’t feel them, either. But now that you two can see them, Toxites will probably stay farther away from you.”

Marv bent down and took a swig from the drinking fountain. Spencer almost hurled. The big man stood up tall again, water in his black beard. “There’s one more kind of Toxite we’d like to show you,” he said.

They walked up by Mrs. Natcher’s class, then down by the gyms. Marv started to grow impatient as they looped back, the four figures moving stealthily through the hallway. They passed through a set of doors and found themselves in the school library. Using the bookshelves as a shield, the janitors and the kids crawled forward until, at last, they saw what they were searching for.

“Filth,” Walter whispered.

Spencer and Daisy took turns looking around the corner of the shelf. A dust gopher was sniffing the floor nearby. It was the size of a guinea pig but, on closer inspection, looked more like a porcupine. Along the creature’s back were spiky, dust-covered quills, almost unseen below its long, dusty hair. The rodent face was downturned, and long woodchuck teeth tilled the carpet in search of fresh dust.

The Filth waddled a few steps, found a particularly rich spot, and began scratching at the carpet with its clawed feet. A cloud of dust arose and the Filth snapped and licked at the carpet.

“Can you guess what they eat?” Marv whispered, but Spencer wasn’t listening. He was curled on the carpet, his breathing deep and regular.

He was asleep.

Chapter 28

“It doesn’t seem fair.”

Shoo!” Walter cried, rolling out from his hiding place behind the bookshelf. The Filth’s quills bristled, an act that sent up a puff of gray dust. If Walter had brought a Glopified vacuum, the creature would have been a goner. But since he was unarmed, the Filth scuttled away, ducking out of sight beneath the historical fiction shelf.

Spencer revived quickly, distantly aware of Daisy calling his name. He quickly shrugged off the fatigue and sat up, his face reddening with embarrassment.

“What happened?” he asked.

“The Filth got you,” Marv said. “That was a big one. Had potent breath.”

The four of them stood, Spencer leaning against the bookshelf and yawning.

“Filth breath will plunge you into such a deep sleep, you won’t hear a word the teacher says.”

A light clicked on in Spencer’s mind. All the times he’d been drowsy in class . . . especially during Miss Sharmelle’s lecture on algebra. Maybe it hadn’t actually been so boring. There must have been a Filth in the room. But why did the Filth breath attack Spencer so hard, while kids like Dez didn’t even blink a heavy eye?

“It doesn’t seem fair,” Spencer said. “Some other kids in my class, like Dez, for example—he doesn’t seem affected by
any
of the Toxites. Is he just strong enough to resist their breath?”

Walter gave a half smile, a reminiscent look on his old face. “I was eighteen when I got my first job as a janitor. My mentor was a wise Toxite hunter who answered that same question for me.” Walter folded his arms.

“One day, I was observing the Toxites during school lunch. There were two particular boys that I noticed—complete opposites. The first sat in the corner. His table was swarmed with Toxites. The poor fellow was caught between bouts of distraction and fatigue so severe he could hardly eat.

“The second boy sat across the room. He ate his food quickly, and I noticed that not a single Toxite lingered near him.”

Spencer could imagine himself in the story, surrounded by Toxites.

“After observing the scene, I commented to my mentor, ‘That first boy must be very bad, all surrounded by Toxites as he is. And I’ll bet that second child is well-behaved, strong, and smart.’

“My mentor chuckled. ‘Walter,’ he said, ‘how little you understand. The truth is rather the opposite. The first boy is trying very hard. His mind is active and he wants to learn. Those are rich brain waves, and the Toxites swarm around him to feed. That second boy is a ruffian with no desire to be in school. Even in a school that was Toxite-free, that child wouldn’t learn a thing.’”

Walter nodded at Spencer and Daisy. “I hope you understand. We’re not fighting for the Dezmonds of the school. The Toxites don’t waste their breath on kids like him. We’re fighting the Toxites for
you.
You are the ones in danger, because you have a great desire to learn and to grow.” He sighed. “It may not seem fair. But it’s true. Take it as a compliment from the Toxites. Take it as a challenge. There’re only two ways to get rid of the creatures. Either you give up and quit learning so they leave you alone . . . or you
fight
for your education.” Walter clapped them on the shoulders. “What’s it going to be?”