Secrets Of New Forest Academy Part 28

At last they were away, Penny driving them swiftly down the canyon. "Anyone behind us?" she asked.

"n.o.body," Daisy said, glancing out the back window. "I think we're all safe."

Penny exhaled a sigh of relief. "We're not all safe."

"Walter," Spencer whispered.

He wondered again about the warlock janitor. Walter had sacrificed himself as a distraction. How long until they heard from him? What if Walter didn't make it away? Would they ever know what happened?

"I need you to find him, Spencer," Penny said, glancing in the rearview mirror. "Make sure he got out."

Spencer's heartbeat heightened and he glanced around the van for an excuse. "But I can't ... I don't know ..." He saw his dad, a puzzled look on his shadowy face.

"Here." Penny slipped a ring from her finger and reached to the backseat. "It's bronze. And it worked before."

"Bronze?" Alan muttered.

Spencer took a deep breath. He felt Daisy steady his shoulders, preparing for a blackout. Penny dropped the ring into Spencer's palm. His fingers closed around it, and the van exploded into a vision of white.

Chapter 56.

"It's time."

The first vision took him back to New Forest Academy's underground parking garage. It lasted only a moment through the eyes of Director Garcia. The warlock was silent in the chill darkness of the dumpster prison. Spencer was suddenly overcome by a wave of horrible claustrophobia. For a moment he almost lost track of his true location. Was he inside the dumpster prison, pressing hopelessly against the Glopified lid? Or was he in the back of Walter's janitorial van, speeding away from New Forest Academy?

The claustrophobic feeling lasted only until Spencer realized that this was merely a vision. He forced himself to focus on the bronze ring in his hand, using it as an anchor to reality. But as the panicked feeling of confinement faded, Spencer considered the countless months his father had been prisoner. It wrenched at his heart, knowing what the BEM had done to Alan-the way they had mistreated him!

With his focus directed away from Garcia and the dumpster, the scene filtered into brightness. When the light dimmed, Spencer found himself running through dense foliage, his footfalls crunching on fallen leaves. He could see a puff of white vapor billowing from his mouth with every gasp of breath. Spencer's Auran sense kicked in and he immediately knew that this was Walter cutting through the forest, one and a half miles southeast of New Forest Academy's campus.

Walter slowed to a halt, and Spencer felt him lean against a tree. Glancing back through the trees, the old warlock squinted. Shouts cut through the forest, angry Academy teachers and BEM workers following Walter's trail. The warlock janitor dropped to a crouch behind a bush, and the first woman pa.s.sed him unnoticing. A man came into view, paused, and then darted off through the trees.

Walter let out the breath he'd been holding. Lifting himself from the bush, he cut up the hill, backtracking toward the Academy. The enemy was still after him, but at least for the moment, Walter Jamison was free.

A blinding whiteness pierced the forest. For a moment, Spencer wondered if the sun was rising. But it was much too soon for dawn, and the light spread until it claimed his whole spectrum of sight.

"They've escaped, sir." Spencer heard the speaker's voice before his sight returned. As the scene came into focus, he found himself in that familiar D.C. office, facing a janitor in tan coveralls. "No word from Slick yet, but reports from the Academy are coming in on every phone line downstairs."

Spencer felt himself lean across the table. His voice was low, an attempt to suppress his obvious anger. "What about Garcia?"

The janitor shook his head, indicating that the Academy director was still unaccounted for.

The speaker inhaled sharply and righted himself. Spencer knew he was tall by the way the other janitor cowered.

"It's time," he said. The tone was unwavering and authoritative. Spencer felt the big man move around the gla.s.s-topped desk and head for the door. He didn't rush, but his gait seemed measured and unstoppable.

"What word should I send to the Academy, sir?" asked the janitor. "Our men are tracking the warlock Jamison into the forest. Should they kill or capture?"

The big man stopped by the door. "Fah, Jamison! A perfect decoy! Those Academy fools played right into Jamison's hands. It's not the warlock they should be tracking."

"I'll tell them to pull back, to follow the others ..."

Spencer felt the tall warlock shake his head. "No more mistakes. I'll deal with Zumbro." His strong hand pulled open the door. "Ready the helicopter. We fly to Salem tonight."

The other janitor's face paled and he swallowed hard. "Not to the Academy?"

"Not yet," the big man said. "Garcia has failed me. He will expect punishment. But I am still in need of his services. We will rescue Garcia from this miserable failure. Let him think he has escaped my wrath."

Spencer's vision began to fade into bleary light. He tried to hold on to the scene as the warlock's final phrase left his lips.

"No one escapes the wrath of Mr. Clean."

Acknowledgments.

There are countless people to thank for helping this series take off. The ranks of Rebel Janitors are growing, so keep spreading the word!

Thanks to you, reader, for picking up this sequel. Thanks for meeting me at book signings and school a.s.semblies. Your enthusiasm for the story inspires me. I hope you've had fun reading this, and I can promise lots of exciting surprises for the rest of the series.

Thanks to all the librarians, teachers, and bookstore a.s.sociates who have helped share the story. I've been able to meet some of you and I appreciate your dedication to learning and literature.

I can't say thanks enough to the amazing team at Shadow Mountain. You have honestly made my dreams come true. Thanks to Chris Schoebinger for making this all happen. To Heidi Taylor for helping me every step of the way. To Emily Watts for changing all my "affects" to "effects." To Lois Blackburn and Roberta Stout for the intense amount of effort you put into my book tours and events.

Brandon Dorman, you did it again! Your fantastic cover art and ill.u.s.trations are truly captivating. I know many readers who picked up the book off the shelf solely because of the artwork.

Thanks to my agent, Rubin Pfeffer, whose coaching keeps me motivated and encouraged. You are a great friend and mentor. I look forward to many more years.

Thanks to Lance, for our numerous discussions over fine cuisine.

To the McDonalds (my in-laws, not fast food). Thanks for your interest in me and everything I do.

I think I have the most supportive family ever! Thanks to Mom and Dad, Jess and Dave, Laura and Martin, Molly and Mike, and C and Hil. Thanks to my nieces and nephews, who are current (and future) fans of the books: Anna, Maren, Kira, Sadie, Quinn, Max, Mae, Grey, and Ruby.

Last, but not least: Thanks, Connie. Your support and love overwhelm me. Thank you for letting me chase my dreams.

Reading Guide

1. Spencer acts impulsively when he pulls the fire alarm at Welcher Elementary. When have you done something impulsive? How did it turn out?

2. Spencer uses jump ropes, a toilet plunger, and a broom to fly the family car away from Hillside Estates. How would you escape from the BEM if they surrounded your house?

3. Walter tells Spencer and Daisy not to go anywhere alone at New Forest Academy. When have you been in situations where there is safety in numbers?

4. Spencer didn't recognize his dad's voice when he talked to him in the dumpster. Is there someone you care about that you haven't heard from in a long time?

5. Glopified duct tape is fingerprint sensitive and indestructible. What would you do with a roll of tape like that?

6. Slick pays each member of the brown team fifty dollars to stay quiet while he attacks Spencer. What could you buy with fifty dollars? What would you do if someone offered you money to do something wrong?

7. Meredith uses mashed potatoes to pa.s.s messages to Spencer. What food would you use to hide a message? Who would the message be for? What would it say?

8. Spencer's Auran powers make it possible for him to see through the eyes of the warlocks. Whose eyes would you like to see through? Why?

9. Grimes cause distraction, Rubbishes cause apathy, and Filths cause sleepiness. Which Toxite would affect you the most?

10. In the end, Dez betrays the Rebels by staying at New Forest Academy. When have you felt betrayed or tricked? What did you do about it?

11. As an Auran, Spencer will no longer age. What's the benefit of staying young? How would you feel if you stayed young while your friends and family got older? Why?

11. Director Garcia thinks New Forest Academy is superior to all other schools. What are three great things about your school?

Janitors 3, Curse of the Broomstaff Sneak Peek!

A secret society of Janitors with wizard-like powers continue their battle, and now, the stakes are even higher.

The Bureau of Educational Maintenance is after Alan Zumbro and this time they mean business-deadly business. Spencer, Daisy, and their little team of rebels must find the source of all magical Glop and destroy it before it can destroy the world as we know it. No small task with the BEM and their monster toxites at their heels. It's a wild and dangerous ride as they follow the trail of clues all the way to the hiding place of the mysterious aurans: guardians of a secret landfill. What they discover there will change the way Spencer sees himself, not to mention the fate of the rebels.

"The Clean way."

Mrs. Natcher's chalk squeaked against the board, and Spencer shuddered at the sound. The teacher stepped away from the chalkboard so the students could see what she'd drawn. It was another story problem. And this time there was a pie chart to go with it.

Why did Mrs. Natcher have to ruin pie by turning it into a math problem?

Spencer sighed and picked up his pencil. He finished the problem quickly and still had time to double-check his work.

Cla.s.s was different without Dez. Spencer found that it was much easier to finish his a.s.signments without the bully's grubby hands poking him. Dez's absence, under any other conditions, would have been a great relief. But Spencer was troubled.

Three months had pa.s.sed without any word from Dez. Under Slick's persuasion, the bully had stayed at New Forest Academy. But Slick was long gone, eaten by his own overgrown Grime. So what was keeping Dez from coming home? Had the bully given in to the BEM? Was he truly one of them now?

Glancing around the cla.s.sroom, Spencer saw that he was practically the first student finished with the pie chart problem. Daisy sat a few desks away, her nose an inch off the math notebook as she scribbled out numbers.

Spencer sighed as he thought through the rest of his day. It was Max's fourth birthday. Spencer's mom would be busy planning a party for his little brother. They'd have cake. But Max would probably s...o...b..r when he blew out the candles, getting his germs all over, so Spencer probably wouldn't eat any.

Life had actually become quite boring lately. If it weren't for his bronze visions, Spencer would feel completely left out of what the Rebel Underground was doing. Ever since Walter had escaped through the woods around New Forest Academy, Spencer liked to check on the old warlock. Just to make sure everything was all right.

Spencer's hand drifted to his left pocket. He knew he shouldn't do it. Not during cla.s.s. But a quick checkup wouldn't take long. Spencer could be back before Mrs. Natcher sliced the pie chart.

Spencer plunged his hand into his pocket, his fingers slowly lowering to the object concealed there. It was an old high school swimming medal that his sister had bought at a yard sale. It wasn't gold or silver. It was third place-bronze.

Spencer's hand closed around the cold medallion. He tried to keep a casual gaze forward, but almost immediately, Mrs. Natcher and the chalkboard were blurred away in a blizzard of white. It spread, consuming his entire vision, until it fell away, point by blinding point.

He stood in a parking lot only fifty-two miles west of Welcher Elementary. Spencer tried to remain calm. His power was still new and, in many ways, uncontrollable. Even though he'd been able to increase the length of his warlock visions, Spencer still didn't know who he would be spying on at any given time. He had hoped for a glimpse of Walter, but the man in the parking lot was too broad and tall.

Spencer knew at once who it was.

The man was Mr. Clean, the president of the BEM and the most mysterious of the three warlocks. The name was clearly an alias, which prevented Walter from discovering his true ident.i.ty or anything about Mr. Clean's past.

Spencer had seen through Mr. Clean's eyes a number of times. The warlock was usually at his BEM office in Washington, DC, causing everyone nearby to cower in fear. But not this time. What was Mr. Clean doing in Idaho, standing in the parking lot of a prison?

The sun was brilliant, sparkling on the mounds of snow at the edge of the parking lot. The warlock looked down, his breath billowing in the frosty February morning. He was wearing a long white lab coat, but as his gloved hand moved the lapel aside, Spencer saw that something was attached to his belt.

It was a large black battery pack with a dial in the center. Plugged into one end was a thick orange extension cord. Mr. Clean's eyes followed the trailing cord, and as he looked over his shoulder, Spencer gasped.

Not three feet behind the warlock crouched a gigantic Filth. The rodent's face was downturned, its hideous buckteeth jutting crookedly from a s...o...b..ring mouth. It was purring softly, a deep-throated, phlegmy sound that caused the deadly sharp quills on its back to rise and fall.

The other end of the cord was nestled into the monster's dingy fur, plugging into the gray flesh near the spine. The Filth's eyes were half closed and the beast pulsated lazily as energy flowed through the extension cord and into the creature's body.

The warlock did not seem the least bit terrified that an overgrown Toxite was breathing down his neck in the open parking lot. In fact, the broad man reached out a gloved hand and stroked the creature's muzzle.

Then, with a blur of movement, the man leapt into the air, his white lab coat swinging wide. To Spencer's surprise, the warlock landed atop the huge Filth, straddling it like a warhorse. The Filth made no reaction, completely contented, apparently due to the energy coming through the cord.

The warlock adjusted his weight, and Spencer noticed that there was a floor mat draped across the Filth's back like some kind of primitive saddle. The man's hand dropped to the battery pack at his waist. As soon as he twisted the dial, the Filth roared to life.

The huge creature leapt forward, bounding across the parking lot with a snarl. When it reached the doors of the prison, the Toxite lowered its broad head. Spencer flinched at the sound as both doors were ripped open, the Toxite and rider tumbling into the reception area. The Filth stomped its clawed feet, shaking broken gla.s.s from its fur as the alarm blared.

There was a uniformed woman behind the reception desk. She sprang from her seat, fumbling to draw her gun. The warlock and his beast paused in the center of the room, reveling in the chaos they had just created.

In seconds, the reception area was swarming with armed guards. But Spencer couldn't understand what was happening. The guards raced past the warlock, inspecting the walls and shattered doors. Of course they wouldn't be able to see the huge Toxite, but had Mr. Clean somehow made himself invisible as well?