Chapter 35

“It’s bugging me.”

Spencer scrambled across the classroom debris to where Daisy was pointing into the hazy air.

“It’s an airplane,” she cried.

“Where?” Dez said, coming alongside them. “I don’t see anything.”

Spencer wouldn’t agree out loud with Dez, but he didn’t see anything either. He was wondering how he could possibly miss seeing an airplane in the formless sky when a flash of white caught his attention. Dez must have seen it at the same time. He shoved Daisy gently in the arm.

“That’s not an airplane, Gullible Gates,” Dez said. “That’s a paper airplane.”

“I know what it is,” Daisy replied. “I never said what kind of airplane.”

“But what’s it doing?” Spencer asked.

The paper airplane was indeed behaving strangely. It fluttered about ten feet above their heads, dipping its wings left and right in the windless sky. The sharp center crease was angled downward, the pointy tip of the plane seeming to stare at each of their faces.

“What are you looking at?” Dez shouted up at the paper airplane.

“It’s not looking at anything,” Spencer said. “It doesn’t even have eyes.”

“I don’t care,” Dez said. “It’s bugging me.” He bent his knees and sprang into the air, black wings propelling him upward. One hand reached out in an obvious attempt to crumple the fragile airplane. But the paper plane’s reaction was faster. It swerved out of reach just as the Sweeper kid’s talons closed on empty space.

Dez grunted and dipped down for a second attempt. This time the paper airplane was ready for him. As his clumsy hands grappled with nothing, the plane zoomed forward, pecking Dez directly between the eyes with its sharp tip.

Daisy couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. Spencer had to admit, it was pretty funny watching Dez get owned by a folded piece of paper. But Spencer’s curiosity about the small airplane prevented him from enjoying the show.

“Leave it alone, Dez!” Spencer shouted. “Maybe it’s here to help us.”

But Dez wasn’t going to give up now. He had a welt between his eyes and probably a bigger one to his pride. The paper airplane was buzzing circles around him while he flapped ungracefully, like a dog chasing his tail in midair.

“Get back here, you little . . .” Dez threatened.

But the paper airplane suddenly seemed to lose interest in Dez. It rose above the Sweeper’s head and hovered there, fluttering like a nervous bird. Its point darted anxiously back and forth. Then it dove below Dez’s feet and streaked between Spencer and Daisy before disappearing into the gritty horizon. It moved so quickly that Spencer knew it was hopeless to give chase.

Dez touched down on the soft, dusty ground.

“Way to go,” Spencer said sarcastically. “You scared off the one thing in the Dustbin that wasn’t dust.”

“I almost had that dumb thing,” Dez muttered.

“I think it was the other way around,” said Daisy, rubbing the spot on her own forehead to indicate where Dez’s welt was showing.

“Whatever,” Dez said. “It was scared of me. Didn’t you see how fast it took off?”

“I don’t think it was scared of you,” Spencer said.

“What else could it be afraid of?” Dez said. “We’re the only ones around.”

Right then, Daisy screamed as something streamed toward them through the dusty air. Spencer’s hand dropped to his janitorial belt, pulling the first handle he could grasp. But before he could turn to face the incoming threat, the attack had reached him.

It was a long, unwound ribbon of toilet paper. It wrapped tightly around his arm and pulled him onto his side in the dust. Dez backed up, talons flexing. But Daisy drew a razorblade from her belt pouch and leapt forward, slashing through the thin paper and cutting Spencer free.

The toilet paper around his arm instantly disintegrated, turning to dust and hanging weightlessly in the air around him. The other end of the severed toilet paper retracted across the dusty ground. Spencer watched it retreat, following the ribbon back to its owner.

The figure was standing only yards away. It was shaped like a man and stood at least six feet high. In place of hands, the attacker sported two toilet-paper rolls on metal rods. But the toilet paper didn’t stop there. It was wrapped around the figure’s arms and torso, down its legs, and around its head. It wasn’t a tight wrap, and the entwining strands dangled down, leaving gaps across its entire body. Through these gaps, Spencer saw no flesh or form, just emptiness, filled with the passing dust in the air.

“Mummy!” Dez shouted. And that was indeed how it appeared: a toilet-paper mummy, as if somebody’s cheap Halloween costume had suddenly come to life.

Spencer had only a moment to take it in before the TP mummy was moving in on them. Spencer leveled his pushbroom in defense and thrust as soon as the creature was within range. The bristles caught the mummy in the chest and sent it coiling weightlessly upward.

Its immediate reaction was to send two long streamers of toilet paper from its rolled-up hands. The paper came out like dual whips, snaring a desk from the debris field and using it as an anchor. The streamers rolled in, pulling the mummy back to the ground.

Even with its feet on the ground, the figure was still weightless and unable to successfully defend itself against Dez’s attack. The Sweeper kid launched himself at the enemy, bringing his sharp talons down across the figure’s chest.

The toilet paper ripped away easily, leaving an open rend in the mummy’s chest. As Spencer had envisioned, the wound opened to nothingness. Instead of a tangible body, the toilet paper seemed to be wrapped around air, giving only the illusion of a human figure.

Gravity returned, and the mummy tried to step forward. Dez swiped his talons once more, severing an arm that turned instantly to dust. Off balance and torn open, the mummy lurched awkwardly, fell toward the kids, and suddenly disintegrated.

Spencer stared speechlessly at the spot where the mummy had fallen. There was absolutely no sign of it. Not even the metal rods on which the toilet-paper hands had spun. Its remains were now dust, inseparable from the countless particles hanging in the air.

“Ha! Eat that!” Dez shouted. “That wasn’t even hard.”

“Um, guys,” Daisy said. She was pointing over the boys’ shoulders, her face pale and eyes unblinking. Spencer slowly turned to face whatever it was that Daisy had spotted.

Appearing out of the dust, like wraiths from shadow, were at least a dozen toilet-paper mummies.