Neon Sludge

The recycling center smelled like old apple juice and wet cardboard. It was a big, hollow place with metal walls that echoed every time a kid screamed. And there were twenty kids. Twenty eight-year-olds who had just eaten too much cake and were now vibrating with sugar energy. Val stood in the middle of the sorting floor. She was wearing a bright orange vest with about fifty pockets. Each pocket had something in it: a whistle, a map, a juice box, a backup juice box, and a very small first-aid kit. She looked like she was ready to go to war, but only if the war involved a lot of paper cuts and snack breaks.

Mac leaned against a pile of flattened soda cans. He looked at Val. He looked at the vest. He looked at the way her hair was pulled back so tight it made her eyes look sharp. "You look low-key terrifying in that vest, Val," Mac said. He kicked a can. It made a hollow, lonely sound. "Like you’re about to command a very small, very sticky army."

Val didn’t even look at him. She was busy counting heads. "It’s called being prepared, Mac. Some of us actually care if Cody eats a piece of discarded glass because he thinks it’s a diamond. And don't kick the inventory. This is a treasure hunt, not a soccer game."

"It’s a dump," Mac said. "We are in a dump. Calling it a recycling center is just giving the trash a promotion."

"It’s educational!" Val snapped. She finally looked at him. Her eyes were green like the new leaves on the trees outside. It was Spring, and everything was supposed to be blooming. Instead, they were inside a giant tin can filled with the world’s leftovers. "The kids need to learn about the environment. Plus, it was the only place that would let us host twenty kids on short notice after the park got flooded."

Cody, a small boy with a streak of chocolate frosting on his cheek, ran past them. "I found a golden cup!" he yelled. He was holding a crumpled yellow Gatorade bottle. He tripped over a loose floorboard, did a professional-grade somersault, and kept running without missing a beat.

"See?" Val said. "Magic."

"That’s not magic," Mac said. "That’s a sugar crash waiting to happen. In twenty minutes, they’re all going to be crying and asking for naps."

Then the noise started. It wasn't a kid noise. It wasn't the sound of the wind outside. It was a dry, crinkling sound. It sounded like a thousand candy wrappers being opened at the same time. Mac froze. Val froze. Even Cody stopped running. In the corner of the room, a mountain of clear plastic water bottles began to shift. It didn't just fall over. It started to knit itself together. The bottles clicked and snapped. They formed legs. Long, spindly legs made of Cragmont and Aquafina. Then it formed a head. A big, translucent head that tilted to the side as it looked at the kids.

"Mac," Val whispered. Her hand went to the pocket with the whistle.

"I see it," Mac said. He stepped in front of her. "Is that... a trash monster?"

"It’s a mountain of plastic bottles walking," Val said. "So, yes. Probably."

From the lake mist outside the open loading bay doors, something else happened. The air turned a strange, neon green. It was the color of a glow-stick that had been cracked too hard. Then came the slapping sounds. Wet, heavy slaps against the metal walls. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

"What is that?" Cody asked, his eyes wide. He wasn't running anymore. He was hiding behind Val’s orange vest.

"Stay back, Cody," Val said. Her voice was steady, but her fingers were shaking as she reached into a side pocket. She didn't pull out a juice box this time. She pulled out a flare gun. She had bought it for the hiking trip they never took. The one they were supposed to go on before they stopped talking to each other.

Suddenly, fish began to fly through the loading doors. But they weren't normal fish. They were grey and tattered, with milky eyes that shone with that same neon green light. Zombie fish. They didn't swim; they flopped and leaped, leaving trails of glowing slime on the floor. The plastic bottle monster followed the slime. It was like a map. The trash-beast stepped onto the glowing trail and its plastic feet turned green. It let out a sound like a recycling truck backing up—a loud, rhythmic beeping.

"Officer Pete!" Val yelled, looking toward the entrance where the security guard had been standing.

Officer Pete was currently trying to shoo away a swarm of reborn plastic dinosaurs. They were the little green ones you get in party bags, but they had grown to the size of medium-sized dogs. They were nipping at his boots with their stiff, molded jaws. "I'm a little busy, Val!" Pete shouted, swatting a T-Rex with his clipboard. "The recycling is fighting back!"

"Mac, get the kids!" Val commanded. She stepped forward, leveling the flare gun at the bottle monster. "The garbage truck in the back! It’s the only thing with thick enough walls!"

Mac didn't argue. He didn't make a joke. He just grabbed Cody and another girl named Maya. "Everyone!" he roared. "Follow the orange vest! We're playing a new game! It’s called 'Get in the Truck or the Trash Eats You'!"

"That’s a terrible name for a game!" Val yelled over her shoulder.

"I'm working with what I’ve got!" Mac countered. He began herding the kids. They were screaming now, but they were moving. The sugar high had turned into pure adrenaline. They scrambled toward the massive white garbage truck parked at the end of the sorting line.

Val pulled the trigger. The flare gun went pop, and a bright red ball of fire arched through the air. It hit the plastic bottle monster right in the chest. The plastic didn't catch fire; it melted and hissed, the monster stumbling back as its legs lost their shape. But more were coming. A swarm of plastic dinosaurs was rushing toward the kids. Val reloaded with a speed that Mac found genuinely impressive and slightly scary.

"Go!" she screamed. "I’ll hold them off!"

Mac shoved the last of the kids into the back of the truck. It was clean-ish, mostly smelling of lemon-scented disinfectant. "Stay down!" he told them. "Don't come out until I say!"

He turned back to see the most impossible thing yet. The wall of the recycling center didn't just break; it exploded. A giant sturgeon, at least twenty feet long, crashed through the metal siding. It was a zombie fish too, its skin grey and peeling, but as it moved, something magical happened. The scales where the sunlight hit them didn't look like rot anymore. They began to bloom. Real, vibrant purple flowers—lilacs and violets—burst from the fish’s skin. It was a garden of the undead. The smell of rotting fish was suddenly replaced by the overwhelming, sweet scent of a spring morning.

The sturgeon landed on the sorting line, crushing a conveyor belt. It flopped its massive tail, sending purple petals flying everywhere like confetti. But the petals were sharp. They sliced through the air, sticking into the walls.

"Mac! Get in!" Val yelled. She ran toward the truck, the flare gun smoking in her hand. She jumped into the cab, and Mac climbed into the driver's seat. Officer Pete was already there, huffing and puffing, his hat crooked.

"Start it up!" Pete yelled. "Drive us out of here!"

Mac slammed the key into the ignition. He turned it. The engine groaned. Rrr-rrr-rrr. It didn't catch. He tried again. Rrr-rrr-click.

"Come on, you piece of junk!" Mac growled. He hammered on the dashboard.

From the vents, a sound began to rise. It wasn't the engine. It was high-pitched and squeaky. It sounded like a hundred tiny voices. Mac leaned closer to the dashboard. The engine wasn't dead. It was clogged. Thousands of pieces of sentient, colorful confetti were packed into the air intake. And they were singing. They were singing a high-speed, chipmunk-version of a pop song from three years ago.

"Is the confetti... harmonizing?" Mac asked, staring at the vibrating dashboard.

Val looked at the engine temperature gauge. It was spiking into the red. "The confetti is singing so loud it’s shaking the spark plugs loose!"

Outside, the giant flowery sturgeon let out a low, wet groan and began to slide toward the truck, its purple petals shimmering in the spring light.