Stone Cold

‘Be careful,’ Billy warned.

‘Don’t worry, I’m quiet on my feet,’ Mary whispered confidently as she crept across the dark living room.

‘Tell me about it, you could sneak up on the most suspecting of people,’ Billy contemplated quietly, ‘you’ve always been light on your feet, even when we were kids. No one could hear you coming.’

'You’re just sore you never won a game of hide-and-seek is all,' Mary laughed as she wondered what it was he used to call her.

‘Mute Mary,’ Billy stated, matter-of-factly.

‘See? Sore loser,’ she informed him. Glancing back before leaving the room she could have sworn she saw a glimmer of a smile on his face.

With bated breath she tiptoed past the front door and hurried into her bedroom. She scooped up blankets and pillows as quickly as she could before heading back towards the living room. She didn’t like leaving Billy on his own in his condition, even for a few seconds. This time she hesitated at the front door. She had piled furniture against it as best she could, but even still, she worried it wouldn’t be enough to keep them safe. She had moved what she could manage but she wasn’t the strongest. If Billy had helped it would stand a better chance of keeping people out. Maybe once he’s regained his strength, she thought, hopefully. She stood in fear for a few seconds, listening intently. Silence.

She snatched a coat from a hanger and pocketed a pair of gloves from the hallway dresser, before joining her younger brother back on the living room floor; where he sat propped up against a wall.

‘Here,’ she said, passing him the coat, ‘you need to stay warm.’

‘What about you?’ he asked.

‘I’m not cold,’ Mary assured him, ‘come on now, quickly please,’ she coaxed as she tried to help him into it. Billy, as stubborn an adult as he was a child, didn’t make it easy for her. She soon gave up trying to bend his arms into the sleeves and settled for placing it across his shoulders. The coat was too small for him anyway. Billy’s coat would have been a lot easier but it was locked away in his room with the rest of his stuff.

‘Any better?’ She worried, wrapping the blanket around him.

With Billy being the youngest sibling, Mary had always felt the need to protect him; but for as long as she could remember he’d always looked after her, guiding her, keeping a close eye to make sure she didn't need for a thing. To see him looking so helpless broke her heart. A heavy sense of guilt lay upon her. He needed her now and she didn’t know how to help him. It was her chance to repay him for playing a role that shouldn't have been his, his whole life. But she couldn’t think straight.

‘Don’t fret,’ Billy told her, ‘there's nothing we can do about it now. You can’t help me. I just need to rest. I shouldn’t be talking anyway,’ he advised her, exasperated, ‘Don’t worry, I’ve always liked the silence.'

Mary tried not to take his tone to heart. People get short-tempered when they’re in pain and he’d hit his head pretty hard... but she still knew better than to let him sleep.

He was right about one thing though, if they didn’t keep it down they’d be discovered. It wasn’t long after everything had gone to Hell that people had started banging on doors, trying to force their way in. If she had to put money on it she would have guessed it was people looking for shelter, but she couldn’t risk her rations. Especially with the way Billy put food away. Or that they would come in peace, for that matter. People can't be trusted when the going gets tough.

Billy had wanted her to open the door – she couldn’t blame him though, he wasn’t exactly himself right now. Thank god she had known better.

Protecting Billy was her priority.

‘Mary, what are you going to do?’

‘We will be okay, don’t worry, I will find a way out of this.’ She informed him, as she looked amongst the debris on the floor for the matches. ‘We just need to stay quiet for a little longer. If no one knows we’re here then they can’t hurt us. We’re safe, for now.’

Mary found the matches under a wet newspaper. She shook the cardboard and wiped it against her jeans before opening the packet, attempting to keep them dry.

‘We just need a plan,’ she tried to sound assertive, suppressing her fear so not to frighten Billy further. She wasn't sure she had ever seen her brother as scared as she’d seen him recently, and she would do anything to erase it from her memory. But they weren’t out of danger yet.

‘We need to get dry and warm, get some more food in us…’ she listed quietly as she carefully struck a match, watching as the small candle sprung to life, filling the room with dancing shadows, ‘don’t worry, I grabbed the scented ones,’ she winked at him.

Mary had been staring at a darkening, grey version of Billy for a while now. She felt a sense of relief as the warming glow illuminated her brother's face. It had been getting dark but they had waited to light the candle, as preserving the matches was of grave importance. Six left, she counted.

She felt him watching her as she crawled over to the main window of their apartment and opened a gap in the curtains - careful not to draw attention to anyone who might be outside.

A thin beam of dimming sunlight sliced through the darkness.

‘Mary – please.’ Billy pleaded, his eyes closed, ‘the light, please, not the light.’

Mary quickly scanned the courtyard and the road below. She saw no one. It was deathly quiet.

‘I don’t think help is coming,’ she stated, pulling the curtains closed so Billy could open his eyes again.

‘Are you surprised?’ asked Billy, ‘they’ve got their hands full. It's madness out there.’

‘It’s okay,’ she comforted, ‘we can stay here another few days, if necessary. But then we need to move, and we need a plan for when we do. We can’t be out in the open for long.’

Mary navigated her way through the turned-over furniture and shards of glass, rejoining Billy on the floor. Grimacing she peeled off her socks, swapping them for dry ones from a small pile of supplies she had gathered together the previous morning.

‘Better?’ Billy asked.

‘Much. They’re the ones mum bought me,’ Mary smiled, ‘very soft.’

‘You’ve always been one for creature comforts,’ Billy smirked, ‘ever since you were little.’

‘And I will be once again,’ Mary assured him, ‘when we get out of this we will be in dire need for new things; pajamas, blankets, socks. It will be like Christmas all over again.’ She smiled to herself, it was nice to think of happier things, even for a moment.

‘You reckon?’ Billy asked.

‘Sure thing. I’ll make it happen, you’ll see. We’ll invite all the family this time. Maybe Rose will bring the girls. It would be nice to have kids here for Christmas. Really feel the magic of it all.’

‘I don’t think the girls are that young anymore,’ said Billy blankly, ‘Besides, I’m worried about mum and dad. Do you think they'll be okay with all this happening? How will they cope?’ he worried, looking Mary dead in the eye.

‘I’m sure they’ll be fine,’ she assured him, taking his hand. ‘Christ Billy your hands are stone cold. Here,’ she said, grabbing the gloves, ‘hopefully, these will warm them up.’

She could feel the worry in her eyes betraying her, as she looked at Billy. ‘Does that hurt?’ she asked as she pulled his fingers apart, straightening them. She guided his hands into the gloves as a mother would a child. After some pushing and pulling she finally managed to get them onto his swollen hands.

‘No,’ Billy told her, ‘But my head does, a little.’

‘Of course it does,’ Mary tutted, ‘you took quite the knock.’

‘Did I?’ he croaked.

‘You most certainly did,’ she informed him as he began to drift off, ‘hey, hey Billy,’ she warned, nudging his arm, ‘stay awake.' Panicking slightly she searched for where she had placed the matches.

Billy groaned as Mary helped him with his drowsiness. She sat back and gazed at her handy work. She was getting good at this first aid stuff, she thought, as she marvelled at her quick thinking.

‘I think you need to eat some more, it will help keep your strength up. Let's see what we’ve got here,’ she chirped, ‘we have; a few tins of beans, some biscuits, a wedge of stilton, some meat - which I don’t think is any good now because, quite frankly, it stinks… and there's also some slightly overripe fruit. Could be worse,’ she smiled at him, ‘what do you fancy?’

‘I can’t eat anything else, Mary, I’m still stuffed from earlier.’

‘Please Billy, I don’t want to have this argument again. Just eat something. Don’t make me force you. You need some energy. You’re almost lifeless.'

‘Okay, jeez,’ he surrendered, ‘it just seems a bit like overkill. I have a belly ache and you haven’t eaten anything. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You eat something.’

‘Alright,’ Mary sighed, ‘I'll join you in an apple,’ she muttered as she tried to hide her excitement. She’d been having hunger pains for hours but she’d wanted Billy to eat as much as he could, to pack himself full. It would give him a fighting chance if help took longer than expected to arrive.

She gave him an apple, wiped her hands clean, and sat in silence as she devoured her own. Its sweetness filled her mouth making her hungry for more, but she knew she couldn't. Instead, she ate slowly, savouring every mouthful as she watched Billy struggle to digest his apple.

‘I need to be sick,’ he muttered as his stomach gurgled.

‘No Billy, you don’t. Trust me. I’ll try to call for help again,’ she told him as she searched for her phone under the overturned furniture. It was hard to see anything in the dark and the candle wasn't helping much. If she could only remember where she put it... lying down on the sticky, wet floor, she started feeling around in the darkness. Her hand rolled over splintered wood and broken crockery before something that felt hard and heavy. Wrapping her hand around it she pulled it out.

Staring at the hammer, Mary felt a sense of confusion. It was an odd thing to find in her living room even in these circumstances, and its presence could be explained, if only she could only remember... she felt as though it was on the tip of her tongue. Mary shook the feeling off, she didn’t have time to waste. She cast it aside to continue her search. It landed on the wooden floor with a heavy thud. Mary gasped, astounded at how stupid she had been. She looked at Billy, his wide, bloodshot, eyes met hers with fear frozen across his face. They waited, listening to the silence.

The seconds seemed to drag by.

‘I think we’re okay,’ whispered Mary, heart thundering.

‘Did you find the phone?’ Billy asked.

‘Not yet,’ she panicked, her brother was obviously losing faith in her ability to get them out of this.

‘Try the landline then Mary, it’s right there on the wall.’ Mary turned to see the phone on the wall, surrounded by paintings. How had she forgotten? Some paintings had been knocked off onto the floor during the accident, and some sat askew on their axis. Sighing with relief, she scurried to her feet and grabbed the handset.

Mary gazed at the painting on the left as she punched in the numbers and waited. Billy had painted that picture, and usually, it would bring her a sense of peace and tranquillity; but it looked different in the shadows, dark and menacing. She straightened it up as she waited. And waited.

‘No answer,’ she muttered, reaching out to lean against a painting in disbelief. ‘They must still be busy. Emergency services will be pushed to their limits right now. Looks like we’re still on our own.’

‘You need to get help, Mary,’ Billy stumbled over his words.

‘Hush now,’ she comforted him as she returned to her spot next to the candle and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘They’re just overwhelmed. Just like after any natural disaster, it takes a minute for them to find their feet. But help will come. We’ll be okay. To quote the wisest man I know – you - as long as we’ve got each other we can get through anything,’ she muttered as she closed her eyes, just for a second.

Mary woke to the sound of beeping. She glanced down at Billy's watch, 5 am. The alarm was quiet but noticeable. Billy was already awake, staring at the wall, helpless. He seemed to be deep in thought and did not attempt to muffle the noise. She fumbled with his wrist as she located the button to turn it off. The watch used to be hers, but just like when they were kids, he was always taking her stuff. She sat in the dark for a few minutes, listening to Billy’s breathing. It was shallow and wet, almost bubbling.

He looks pretty peaceful though, all things considered, she thought as she relit the candle. Three left, she tutted, counting the matches. The smell of fresh lavender once again began its journey to fill the room. Mary reminded herself to be thankful for the little things as she tiptoed across the room with the candle in hand, doing her best to shield the flame. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep, she thought as she turned on the gas for the stove and brought it to life with the candle, but how can anyone stay awake for this long, in all honesty? We've been here for what feels like days. Rescue should be coming soon. I wish he had listened to me, I wish they all had. We could have gotten to safety.

She turned the tap on slightly and waited as the pan filled before silently placing it on the hob. She shook her head and watched as the water began to boil and dropped a teabag in. It was quieter than the kettle by a long shot and Billy would need a drink to take his painkillers. They should count their lucky stars that the water was still running. Amenities like clean running water would be few and far between at the moment, and that was exactly why she couldn’t risk letting anyone in; to take what they have.

She poured the tea into a mug, turned off the gas and snatched up a bottle of pills from the counter.

‘Hey Billy, look at me,’ she ordered as she kicked his leg gently to get his attention. He looked up at her with wide eyes, pale as anything. ‘You need to take these it will help with the pain.’ she told him as she bent down. Placing the steaming tea on the floor, she popped the lid off the meds. Lucky she had so many to hand really. She placed a couple into his mouth and lifted the tea to his face.

‘Drink it slowly,’ she advised tipping the liquid into his mouth, ‘take small sips.’ He grunted repeatedly as he tried to swallow, hot tea spilling down his front.

‘You're getting so weak,’ she worried. Mary took her time, she didn’t want him to be sick again. His mouth began to foam. It must be the medicine she thought, exasperated.

Feeling defeated Mary slumped down next to Billy and hung her head, ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. I don’t know what to do.’ Billy started to sob. Quietly at first, but getting louder by the minute.

‘Billy, stop it – Billy, please. Someone will hear us.’ Mary felt her heartbeat picking up rapidly, she tried to swallow but her mouth was dry.

She looked at him in shock as his crying started to change to laughter. A smile began to crack across his face, tearing his swollen skin. He didn’t break eye contact with her as blood started to ooze from the fresh cracks it was creating. Loud bellows of belly laughter filled the room. Mary looked on in horror as his laughing became so maniacal that he began to convulse, bloodied foam spitting from his mouth.

Suddenly the noise stopped. Mary didn’t hear the crying anymore, nor the laughter, as she slid down the wall and curled into a ball.

She didn’t hear the angry voices from outside as people realised they were home.

She didn’t hear the banging on the door as it started up, once again.

She didn’t hear the sound of the wood splitting as the door gave way, under the pressure of someone's foot.

In fact, Mary no longer heard anything.

Oak Meadows Psychiatric Facility

Dr. Linda Jacobs hurried along the empty hallway. Her heels echoed along the corridors with every step as she rushed towards the west wing. It was always peculiar to experience the facility so quiet. It could only be done in the early hours of the morning; as it would, without a doubt, be a different story once the patients were awake. She glanced at her watch as she crossed the empty Day Room. Just in time, she thought, as she saw her boss waiting for her at the entrance to Maximum Security.

‘We don’t have time to stop, so let's walk and talk,’ he informed her matter-of-factly, as he passed her a photocopy of a patient breakdown and mug shot. ‘Meet Mary Williams.’

‘Mary is a 5 foot 3 female,’ he explained, as she scanned the details of the new arrival while trying to keep pace with her mentor,‘ 26 years old and of Caucasian descent. She has a slim build and holds little weight on her bones, but do not let that fool you - she is quick on her feet. Given the opportunity she can do some damage, so let's make sure she’s not.’

‘Not what?’ asked Linda, puzzled.

‘Given the opportunity,’ he repeated. 'She has multiple diagnoses previous to being admitted, including but not limited to; severe depression, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and psychopathy. As of 9 pm last night - she became our patient. She is prone to vivid hallucinations and has recently suffered a full psychotic break. We will treat Miss Williams to the best of our ability until such a time when she is deemed, either; no longer a danger to the public or found fit to stand trial, whichever the case may be.'

He continued, ‘Mary has spent the last 8 years of her life on the outside, under the watchful eye of her brother Billy Williams, her Carer. Until recently Mary’s mental health had been well controlled. With only a couple of minor violent incidents taking place.

Two weeks ago Billy Williams contacted Mary's Mental Health Team, to ask for help in monitoring his sister's condition. Unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances that request was not received for another 6 days. In his request Billy addresses Mary's declining mental state. He reported an intense lack of enthusiasm to take her antipsychotics and believed it would soon become outright refusal to remain medicated. Mary was becoming increasingly paranoid and feared the arrival of a none existent cataclysmic event. As you know, it's not uncommon with these kinds of situations that if the threat does not come to pass, one is created.

He became suspicious of her increasingly unstable mental state and found evidence that indicated she had missed doses of her medication. Mary had alarm reminders set on her watch, however, Billy talks about taking this into his possession to make sure he could monitor her taking them. He believed she had become very good at making it look like she was taking her medication as prescribed, then suspected she was finding ways to discard them. Again, not uncommon in these situations.

In the report, he asks what help can be made available to him, and requests an up-to-date psych evaluation as soon as possible. He knows this can take some time and informed the Carers Association that he would be removing all sharp objects from her environment and putting locks on the doors and windows. Also, that he had taken the liberty of removing her mobile phone from her possession; as he believed what she was looking at online was fuelling her paranoia for an upcoming, worldwide, natural disaster. He had previously tried introducing her to painting; one of his own, much-loved past times. He reports he did this to try to keep her distracted from her fears and although she had seemed to take to this new hobby enthusiastically, she obsessively only paints pictures of phones.

After the Mental Health Team attempted to contact Billy - to no avail, a well fair check was requested.

On attendance of the Medical Heath Nurse, worryingly, there was no answer from the residence and unfortunately for Billy, it took another couple of days to get a warrant issued, by which time it was too late.

The Police managed to gain entry yesterday morning. Recognising the odour they advised the nurse to wait outside. The report states that they came across Billy first. The blood loss surrounding him was substantial and almost dry to the touch. It was obvious he was dead and had been for some time.

C.S.I, along with this morning's autopsy confirmed the cause of death to be blunt force trauma to the head. The weapon used - a hammer, which they located at the scene of the crime. He had also been gutted with a Stanley blade. The report shows that this took place whilst his heart was still beating. The conclusion I have drawn is it looks as though Billy wasn’t dying quick enough for Mary's liking, so she used the hammer to finish the job. By the state of the apartment, he certainly put up one hell of a fight. Unfortunately, he inevitably succumbed to his injuries, a full 2 days before being discovered.

Mary had placed consumable items inside his abdominal cavity; filling him with both packaged and tinned food. This had led me to believe that she hadn’t registered what she had done, indicative of a full psychotic break. She was trying to nourish him, in her own way. His face and chest were scolded with boiling water and residue of Mary's antipsychotic medications were found in his mouth, indicating the need to try and fix what she had done.

Mary was found in the fetal position, dehydrated with a few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise unharmed; screaming 'stop it,' repeatedly. She was completely unaware of her surroundings,’ he informed Linda nonchalantly, as he stopped in front of a heavily padded door. ‘Dr. Jacobs, are you okay? You look rather pale,' he observed.

Linda nodded in shock, without realising she did so.

‘Good. Because you need a strong stomach for this case. Fascinatingly, she stuck matchsticks between his eyelids to keep them open.’

He used his Staff Identity Card to unlock the door.

It swung slowly inwards.

‘Time to meet Mary. After you.’