The Last Girl: A gripping psychological thriller with a killer twist

by Nick Twist

  My eyes widen.

  “Of course, no one can know about it, if you know what I mean.” He winks.

  “You’re such a player.” I laugh, glimpsing a side of myself I didn’t know about. “Will you help me leave this building if I say yes?”

  He is about to drool. “Anything you want, baby.”

  I think twice about what I am going to say…but fuck it. “Can you help me transfer to the Crib? I heard they pay more.”

  He leans back, hands on his belt, with a serious face. It’s as if I’ve offended him, or as if he’s figured out I don’t mean what I’m saying. “There is no Crib, darling. The Crib is a myth.”

  The elevator stops. Fourth floor.

  He shoots me one last look and leaves, chin up, and walking like a thug. “Whore,” I hear him say outside.

  I let out a long sigh, not sure what just happened. The way he denied the Crib’s existence actually enforced my belief in it. The elevator takes half as much time to reach floor six, but then the door doesn’t open for a while.

  I push the button again. I wait as the light in the ceiling flickers a couple of times. When the door finally opens, I find myself in a place way different to what I experienced on the lower floors.

  Stepping out, I'm in a dim hallway with a fluorescent light flickering in the distance. Not only does it scare me, but it smells faintly of urine.

  33

  “Glad you made it.” Ashlyn appears out of nowhere. “Now follow me slowly and do as I say.”

  “I met a soldier in the elevator.”

  “Shh, lower your voice,” she says. “What soldier?”

  “I don’t know. Some soldier who flirted with me and offered to transfer me to a better-paying ward if I was his girlfriend, or something.”

  “Yeah?” Ashlyn grimaces. “That’s typical of soldiers with nurses. Did he ask you where you’re going?”

  “He actually asked me if I’m checking on Meredith, and then got out on the fourth floor.”

  “Ah, that’s the resting floor. Did you tell him you were coming for her?”

  I nod. “He called her an old hag and wished she would die.”

  “Typical.” She rolls her eyes. “You did good. Now follow me.”

  We trudge through a messy corridor. The walls are tinted in green. Old beds and wheelchairs are leaning against them. There are rusty old instruments and equipment.

  “Is this place abandoned or what?” I whisper.

  “It’s the floor where we keep Meredith and a few other old patients.”

  “Why here? This doesn’t look like a clinic.”

  “I’m not sure. I never come here, and I never ask. This building is said to have been built during World War II. It’s all been renovated, except this last floor.”

  “What?”

  “I know, it’s crazy.” Ashlyn stops, looking lost. “All I know is that most buildings on the island were constructed around 1942. Most of the older patients were kept on this floor. They all died. The few patients they keep here are said to be daughters of those who died.”

  “Sons and daughters, you mean?”

  “Nah, they’re only women.” She finds her way again, and I follow her. “Meredith used to be a cleaner, but then she went…you know…”

  “What?”

  “Insane.”

  “That’s why the soldier called this place insane,” I say. “Doesn’t she deserve better care, then?”

  “She does, but I only work here. It’s an almost forgotten floor. I hear nurses only bring her food and drinks, plus the occasional medicine. Don’t ask me why.”

  Ashlyn finally stops at a room with an open door. The room stinks. It’s horrible. I can’t quite fathom this. She points inside at a woman in a wheelchair, staring out the window at the grey weather outside.

  We slowly tiptoe into the room.

  Meredith has stiff white hair. It’s long enough that it’s dangling from the back of the chair. Her skin is pale, more cracks and wrinkles than actual skin. Her lips are chapped, and her grey eyes seem to have been blue once—I’m not sure why I think so. Her trembling hands rest on her lap.

  “She doesn’t like anyone looking at her, so you better ask her from here,” Ashlyn says. “Meredith, someone wants to talk to you.”

  Meredith says nothing but wiggles a finger.

  “Hello,” I say. She doesn’t respond.

  “Just go on and tell her,” Ashlyn says.

  I clear my throat. “I want to ask you about this island, if you don’t mind.”

  “One thousand and one nights,” Meredith says. Her voice is husky, a little louder than a whisper. “One thousand and one nights.”

  I glance at Ashlyn. “Keep talking,” she whispers. “I heard most of Meredith’s words are riddles.

  “Do you know what’s happening on the island?” I say.

  She keeps up her “one thousand and one nights” chant.

  “Do you know what’s on the west side of the island?”

  “You don’t want to know,” she finally says.

  “I do.” I take a step closer. “My plane crashed, and I ended up here. I don’t remember anything else. I need to find my—”

  “Daughter?”

  I think my heart stops. “What did you just say?”

  “You should leave as soon as you can.”

  “She can’t,” Ashlyn says. “The weather, you know.”

  “Wait.” I step forward, but Meredith’s body tenses. Ashlyn grips my hand, so I stop. “How did you know about my daughter?”

  A long silence fills the room. Meredith’s gaze seems to see beyond the foggy glass. “Nothing here is what it seems.”

  I pull away from Ashlyn and take another step closer, but now Meredith nervously taps her foot on the floor.

  “She will not tell you anything if you upset her,” Ashlyn mouths.

  “Meredith.” I kneel down, wanting to meet her eyes, but I only see her profile. “What do you know about my daughter?”

  Meredith only taps one hand on top of her lap, staring outside.

  “Is she here?”

  Meredith mutters something. I can’t make out the words.

  “Please, Meredith.”

  She keeps mumbling. I lean forward, trying to listen, but she tenses again.

  “Okay, Meredith. Let me ask you this: did you send me the notes?”

  Ashlyn throws me a look. I get it. How would this woman in a wheelchair send me the notes?

  I turn back to Meredith and slowly stretch an arm to touch the side of her wheelchair. “Do you have children, Meredith?”

  She lets out a moan. A long moan, full of pain.

  “I bet you love them,” I say. “Right?”

  Slowly, she turns her head toward me. Her eyes are drenched in tears that refuse to trickle down her cheeks, as if she is holding on to them for the memories, for solace.

  “See?” I reach out and touch her hand. “I miss my daughter, too. Except I don’t know anything about her. I don’t know her name, not even what she looks like. It’s tearing me apart. And you’re the only one who can help me find her.”

  “Horrible things,” she says in a feeble voice.

  “Come again?”

  “The horrible things they will do to you if you don’t leave.”

  Her words send shivers down my spine. “What kind of things?”

  “Worse than death,” she says.

  “What?” Ashlyn asks.

  “They will rip you apart.” Meredith sobs now. “So much that you will never want to remember who you are anymore.”

  “Listen.” I grip both her hands. “Please tell me how I can find the Crib?”

  Meredith’s eyes dart over my shoulders. Outside, the corridors are suddenly bursting with the sound of footsteps. Not nurses. Not doctors. Heavy boots treading closer. Soldiers.

  34

  “We have to hide,” Ashlyn says between gritted teeth. She darts toward the open door then returns instantly. “We’re too late.
They’re already here.”

  “I can’t go back to that room,” I say.

  “It’s too late, June,” she says. “I’m sorry. They rarely visit this floor, and it’s impossible they figured out you left the room. Must be the soldier you met in the elevator.”

  I point at the window. “It’s our only chance.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “We have no choice,” I say, then realize we don’t have time for debate. I go to the window and pull the latch back. It budges easily. “Come on.” I step outside and watch Ashlyn hesitate. Her limbs freeze in place. “I will leave without you if you don’t come.”

  She reluctantly approaches. I pull her hand violently and help her out on the ledge. It’s thick enough, as if whoever designed it in the 1940s knew someone would walk on it.

  Ashlyn closes her eyes.

  “Stop that,” I hiss, but wonder if she actually hears me in the pouring rain. “Open your eyes.”

  “There is nothing to see.” She sobs. “It’s all grey.”

  I glance sideways, and she is right. It’s like being shrouded in mist. The ledge’s edge isn’t even clear.

  “Open your eyes!” I say.

  “I am afraid of heights. I can’t believe I am doing this. I’m going to die.”

  I baby-step her closer to me. Her steps are stiff and rigid. I grip a water pipe to help pull myself away from the window, which blurs in the mist. I guide her hands to the pipe, which she hugs.

  “Just don’t move,” I say.

  I have little space and nothing to hang on to. We’re both safe from the soldiers for now, but I’m not sure how long we can hold on.

  Carefully twisting my neck, I clamp my ear to the wall, hoping I can hear what’s going on inside. I hear a loud, muffled argument but can’t make out the words. Someone is probably shouting.

  “I’ll have to take a few steps back to listen,” I whisper to Ashlyn.

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I’ll just be a couple of steps away.”

  With Ashlyn in the way, the way back is even harder, but I can hear some of the words now. They’re asking Meredith about us. They call her insane, and then insult her about cleaning toilets in the past. Meredith is silent. The soldiers seem to be accustomed to her behavior. One soldier, however, pushes her for answers, calling her “old hag.” Then another calls her a bitch.

  Beside me, Ashlyn shivers, spitting rain while keeping her eyes closed. I am afraid she’ll give in and call for help at any moment.

  “Tell me if you saw them,” a soldier tells Meredith, then I hear a slap on her face. “Old fucking bitch. You know what we will do to you!”

  The horrible things they will do to you if you don’t leave.

  Meredith’s words weigh on me. I think I am going to fall off the ledge. I close my eyes like Ashlyn, hoping the soldiers will soon be gone. I’m not sure I can stand this any longer.

  “I’m gonna kill that bitch,” a soldier says. I recognize the voice. It’s Hecker.

  “Stop it. She doesn’t know anything.” It’s Ryan.

  “Of course she knows,” Hecker says. “Where do you think she went?”

  “I don’t see how she’s on this floor,” Ryan says. “Look around. There is nowhere to go.”

  “Then where do you think she is?” Hecker says.

  “I don’t know. Maybe she tried to escape to this floor, and then decided it’s not going to help her and took the elevator down again.”

  “So, she is out there on the island?” Hecker shouts. “I told you I don’t trust her.”

  “It’s too late for that,” Ryan says. “Leave Meredith alone. We’re hunting the girl down. She can’t have gotten far.”

  I hear the soldiers leave. They are a bit slower than I’d like them to be. Finally, they evacuate the room. I should give it another five minutes to be safe, but I’m afraid Ashlyn can’t hold on that long. Her foot slips.

  35

  The same moment I pull up Ashlyn up to steady herself on the ledge, lightning strikes in the distance. Still holding her, I make sure I am holding the window’s edge with all my might, then I stretch one foot back into the room.

  “Stay with me, Ashlyn!” I spit out a mouthful of rain. “They’re gone, so open your goddamn eyes.”

  Ashlyn’s eyes flip open, her skinny body stiff as a broom.

  “Good girl.” I gently guide her back without either of us slipping on the wet ledge. “Just keep looking at me.”

  She does, and I baby-step her back toward the room, one foot at a time. Half of my body is inside now, but if Ashlyn panics or slips, I won’t be able to help her. I think I am going to cry myself to death if something happens to her. In my amnesiac state of mind, she is my mother, my daughter, and my best friend. My emotions are that of an infant. She is the first person to lend me a true helping hand since I got on this island. I may have a long past, and a daughter I have to save, but without regaining my memory, I’ve only got Ashlyn.

  “Hang on, Ashlyn. We’re almost there.”

  Most of my body is back inside the room. All Ashlyn has to do is get in. I know how hard it’s going to be, so I hold her by the arms and ask her to do it slowly. She pulls up her right foot, and her other slips.

  “Ashlyn!” I bend and almost crack my back holding on to her. The way she looks at me as she is half dangling is killing me.

  My knees are on fire, rubbing against the wall under the window, but I manage to pull her up. She has her legs on the ledge again. This time, she is alert enough to come in safely.

  I squeeze her in a hug once her feet touch the floor.

  “Are you all right?”

  She nods, spitting water in my face.

  I chuckle and adjust her wet hair on her bony cheeks. “We’ll have to get you somewhere safe.”

  “You need to leave the island,” Meredith says from behind.

  “Stop it.” I turn and face her. “I will only leave to go to the Crib, with or without your help.”

  “One thousand and one nights,” she says again, trying to rock her wheelchair.

  “Look at me.” I kneel and grab her by the jaw. I feel the same chill I felt when I hurt Ashlyn earlier. It’s as if I am not myself anymore. “Tell me something useful, Meredith. Do you know anything about the Crib?”

  “The Crib is a myth,” she says between clenched teeth. “Leave the island now.”

  “It’s not a myth.” I pull my hands away and turn. “Come on, Ashlyn. We’re leaving.”

  “The Crib is a myth,” Meredith repeats. “So is Manfred Toot.”

  I freeze. This old woman is messing with my head. “I never asked about Manfred Toot,” I say without turning to face her. “How do you know about him?”

  She says nothing and continues mumbling her terrible nursery rhyme. I have no idea what it means. Outside, another bolt of lightning strikes. I leave Meredith mumbling absently. “One thousand and one…”

  36

  Ashlyn shows me an old fire escape that we take down, all the way to the ground floor. She is much better now, alert and in the moment. I follow her into the kitchen on the ground floor, and then we hide in a storage room.

  “We can stay here for a minute or so,” she says, peeking out through the keyhole. “There is a door in the kitchen that leads outside. It’s our only way out. I just want to make sure none of the nurses are in the kitchen.”

  “Good,” I say. “Listen, I think you should go back. I’ll do the rest of this on my own.”

  She frowns. “What do you mean, June? We’re a team.”

  “I know, and I really appreciate what you’ve done so far. But why drag you into this?”

  “Because we’re like sisters,” she says, then shrugs. “I mean friends.”

  “Yeah, but this could get us killed, and the soldiers were only asking about me, which means they don’t yet know you’re involved.”

  “I’m the reporting nurse responsible for you. They will question how you escaped the room. No way
you could have broken the door’s code without my help. Forget it. We’re in this together.”

  It baffles me how brave she is. I mean, she could be a burden, unable to help herself, like on the ledge, but she either loves me or is fed up with this island.

  “You heard Meredith,” she says. “She warned us of the things they will do to you when they find you. So we better find that Crib, and your daughter.”

  Mentioning my daughter is like someone shooting me with a poison arrow. The emotional pain I feel is so intense that I feel a sting in the back of my neck and my shoulders. The pain intensifies when I can’t relate to my missing daughter in any way. There is no picture of her in my head. No memory. Nothing that brings a smile to my lips. All I have is the burden of guilt for whatever reason.

  “June,” Ashlyn says. “Let’s go.”

  I follow her outside. She points at the sliding door in the kitchen. It’s still raining outside, and our nurse outfits will be weak protection against this weather. Still, it’s better than whatever the soldiers intend to do to us.

  “Hey!” someone calls from behind.

  Ashlyn and I stop in our tracks. She manages to stay calm, though, turning around to face another nurse.

  “Mindy?” Ashlyn does her best to look normal, but if the horror on our faces isn’t giving it away, our wet outfits and wet hair does. “I just needed something to eat—”

  “Who is that?” Mindy points at me.

  “That?” Ashlyn loses her grip on her act.

  “I’m Brooklyn.” I reach out a hand.

  Mindy doesn’t accept my gesture. “Ashlyn and Brooklyn. What a happy family.”

  “Listen, Mindy,” Ashlyn says, as I slowly reach for the kitchen table behind me. If I’m lucky, I may come across a knife. “We need to leave. I’ll explain later.”

  Mindy glances behind her, hands in her pockets. I can hear the faint sound of soldiers in the distance. “Relax,” she says. “I am not going to tell them about you.”

  Ashlyn’s jaw drops. I realize I’ve actually found a kitchen knife. I hold it behind my back.