Step by Step/Issue 5

This is Issue #5 of Step by Step. It is the fifth issue of Act One.

Issue 5
The rays of heat blasted Joseph as he made his way through the school campus. He found his way into an entrance that led into a deserted hallway. He shut the door behind him. The new humid air in the building suffocated him of clean air.

The brick walls held encased trophies. Several were sport-oriented that marked a legacy of victory. Others were for artwork projects and copies of formatted diplomas. Down the hallway, an eerie sense made Joseph fearful. There was nothing to be afraid of, after all he had just met the devil not long ago.

Memories were good. Joseph recalled the distant memories of him becoming the owner of an award. In middle school, Joseph was at his prime. As an athletic student he found baseball opportune. The thunder clapping noise as the ball bounced off an aluminum stick. The adrenaline would course through him as he would grin at the excitement spreading through the jubilant crowd.

He snapped back. Wiped sweat from his face. He peered into a science classroom. The teacher and his pupils were long gone. Science projects and unfinished experiments started by the intellects laid in the classroom. Seats were strewn across the floor. There were even some pesky flies buzzing by.

Joseph heard a god awful groan. Is this what the military called safe? No way was Indianapolis going to make it out without any scars. Joseph watched the shadow of a disemboweled student rumble forward. Out of the murky air, a ghoulish face thick with blisters emerged.

Joseph gulped. He took a step back. The diseased student was a young boy with dodgy teeth. His upper lip was busted and his nose looked broken. His shaggy hair isolated his forehead from view, but there was obviously blood oozing out from there too.

“Take it easy.” Joseph was met by the science classroom’s export of gut-wrenching fumes. Joseph tried not to tear up at the smell which stung him. Breathless, he watched the boy continue forward. Joseph could smell the kid’s repulsive junk odor.

The classroom had several cabinets aligned in the back where a window was. The drapes had fallen on the floor, embalming what looked like the cast of a human. There was a running sink as well that produced the only noise in the room except the boy’s grunting moans.

“Come on, kid?” Joseph found the boy’s tired, sore-looking eyes. They were red ringed and mucus dripped out onto his cheeks. “Stop!” Joseph barked. His voice boomed throughout the classroom. Just like baseball...

The ball went soaring through the air at the speed of light. Joseph was sure the ball would catch on fire if it didn’t land soon. He recalled himself strolling to first base, without even breaking a sweat. He was met with the effects of Indianapolis’s hardened cold front to the face. His teammates, stuck in a trance of rooting for each other or slashing insults at the other team, were confident.

The icy wind bit into his baseball uniform. He rubbed a hand on his left arm. He had watched the ball escape into the clouds. He held his breath and waited for the ball. He also waited in the powerful winds in the clay field with hollering teenagers.

When Joseph saw the red lining of the baseball he broke out. He dashed to second in under three seconds, his feet sending orange clay up into the air. He found himself stomping his cleats on home base and slapping high-fives just as the ball landed in a catcher’s glove.

The boy was now growling. He hissed between gritting teeth. The teen’s lips were covered in bubbly green acne. The kid pulled apart his raw lips and cracked his yellowing molars. The teenager swayed his arms at Joseph. Joseph found the boy to be barely in the fighting mood.

Exhausted. Joseph was exhausted too. He was taking in heavy breaths. Each two breaths were separated by petite grunts. Joseph pulled back and out of the classroom. He went for the wooden door and shut it. As soon as his hand was void of the door, the door knob started to spin with the door rattling like the predatory tail of an authoritative snake.

Joseph backed away once the teenager's face hit the glass frame of the door. The boy slapped his face on the glass, smearing oily pus across the glass pane. The boy forced his weight on the door, creaking the wood that held the door together. A huge snapping on wood sent a chill down Joseph's backbone.

Joseph made it past two obsolete classrooms with the same scene as the previous one. Everything would be overturned. Books littered in clusters, chairs hanging off of the ceiling, and the last room Joseph went by had several crazies.

Were they crazies too? The kids from this school must be. They're all alike. Diseased bags of flesh. Diseased students that were ill and powered by the force of pain.

Joseph went past the last room- an English classroom. There was a sign with the words barely making out Mr. Robinson's. The door greeted him at his feet. Whatever had passed through here sure hated doors. It couldn't have been the crazies. Could it have been?

On the other hand, how would Joseph know? Joseph was running on the last salty chips he ate before deployment. He yearned at the thought of a water bottle filled with the icy liquid of the gods. Joseph knew he didn't deserve any of that. In the past hour Joseph could recall bursting through the masses and seeing Gordon's last breath. Gordon.

Gordon probably couldn't even finish his desperate screams as teeth clamped onto his throat. Gordon, the lion man that he was, had fallen. No more would Joseph have short chats with his friend and joke about trending topics. No more would Joseph hear about Gordon's fixation with airplane designs, or Gordon's love of really cold Cola.

Gordon being wrestled to the concrete flashed across Joseph's eyes. Joseph took hold of himself and leaned against an empty bulletin board as he turned right. Gordon couldn't even have gotten a shot off from his gun. The dead had probably bit his arms. They most likely snapped off his fingers too. Took a ferocious bite from his ear...

Joseph sent a violent kick at the wall behind him. The noise it produced echoed throughout the hallway, filling Joseph up with charged energy. His hand wiped sweat from his damp face. Joseph could use a cold glass of water... maybe with ice cubes...

The science classroom door's rattle lingered through the murky, humid air to Joseph. A sinister grunt peered around the corner. Joseph took in a heavyhearted breath. Breath in slow. That's what Joseph would do. Take it easy. Take it easy... Joseph looked around. The hallway was a boiling hot place. Without the air conditioning, Indianapolis’s fresh air would burn him up. Joseph cursed. He did it once more before entering the room. The cooler air inside was what drew him in.

Joseph let out of long breath of relief. His rough boots were atop stacks of thick, unorganized books. He didn't care. Joseph could care less. Joseph pulled up a chair that was still in one piece. He went for his shoe laces of his right boot and yanked it off.

“Yow...” Blisters encompassed Joseph's lower foot. Joseph shivered at the thought of blisters. His blisters were made from the toil he had gone through. Not the disease, not the disease... he wasn't sick. Wasn't sick, sick, sick. He was okay. Brock was wrong, what did that rubberneck know?

There was a clatter of boxes in the back of the classroom. Joseph shot up from his daze to see a worried face. The other one terrified with shaky hands. Shaky hands that were griped on a loaded sling shot. An impatient slingshot tottering in jittery hands.