Devil's Playground

by Sara Clancy

  Judy turned to face her fully, her eyebrows knitting together as she stared down at Evelyn.

  “Did you enjoy that?”

  Evelyn tried to dismiss it with a grunt, but her friend wouldn’t be deterred. “Enjoy is a strong word.”

  “Then what?”

  She puffed her cheeks, trying to find a way of saying ‘righteous’ that wouldn’t lead to a lecture. All of her stalling worked, and Judy was called up to the counter before Evelyn was forced to answer. There was no time to discuss anything as they checked in. By the time they met up at the elevators, most of the anger had faded away, leaving only a slight but sharp irritation.

  Judy slammed the call button with far more force than necessary. “You were out of line, Eve.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” she dismissed.

  “No, it’s really not and–” Judy cut herself off as she glanced around. “Do you hear a church bell?”

  “Oh, that’s my ringtone.”

  Evelyn dug through the outer pocket of her duffle bag. She still noticed Judy rolling her eyes.

  “AC/DC rock and Hell’s Bells is a classic,” Evelyn snapped as she finally grasped her phone.

  Instead of responding, the taller woman stared straight ahead, waiting for the elevator doors to open. She thought she had missed the call when the sound suddenly clicked off. Fumbling with the buttons, she lit up the screen to display a text message. A spike of fear coursed through her, as cold as an arctic chill. She whipped around, scanning the lobby. Checking every face. Every corner. Every possible hiding place where someone could be lurking. Watching.

  “Eve?” Judy asked.

  Evelyn barely heard her over the blood rushing through her ears.

  “Eve, what’s wrong?” Concern weaved around each word.

  A frigid hand reached through Evelyn’s ribcage to crush her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. The room spun, becoming a blur of strange faces and fuzzy colors. People gathered in around them, pressing in close as they waited for the elevator. Too close. All within arm’s reach. All looming over her, their eyes dark and brimming with the threat of violence. Staring at her. There was no air.

  “Eve,” Judy placed a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder. “Talk to me. What’s happening?”

  You have no idea what they look like, a voice whispered in the back of Evelyn’s head. Any one of them can be the Sokolovsky siblings you’ve never met. And they’re all close enough to kill you.

  The elevator gave a musical ping as the doors whooshed opened.

  “We’ll take the next one,” Evelyn declared.

  Grabbing Judy’s arm, Evelyn hurled her friend out of the moving stream of the people, shoving and dragging her until they were on the far side of the lobby.

  Judy frowned. “Okay. I’m trying to be supportive, but I’m getting a little scared.”

  After checking the lobby once more, Evelyn finally met her friend’s eyes once more.

  “Everything’s fine. But you might want to alert security if you’re staying. Maybe think about heading home early.”

  “What?”

  “I’m probably just being paranoid,” Evelyn said, forcing a smile. “It’s just that I’ve got to head off early and I don’t like to think of you all alone here.”

  “Where are you going?”

  She gave her friend a tight hug, hoping that it would placate her a bit.

  “I’m fine. I just got a frantic text from an old friend and I really need to go see them. So, I’m going to head to the airport. Now. I’m going to call a cab.”

  Judy watched her for a long moment before casting a cautious glance around the lobby. “I’m going with you to the airport.”

  “Great, that’s probably for the best. Check out for me?”

  Evelyn passed Judy the room key she had just been given and pulled her duffle bag higher over her shoulder. As she lifted her mobile to call a taxi, she accidently reread the text message she had received from an unlisted number. She flinched.

  Ready or not, here we come.

  Chapter 3

  After a series of harmonious bells, a voice came over the speaker system, reminding all the patrons that Shark Reef would be closing in an hour. It had surprised her how quickly Aleksandr had replied to the message she had left on a stop light enthusiasts’ website. They had picked the random little site as their meeting point should anything go wrong, but she hadn’t assumed he would be checking every minute. It left her with a gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach. What had happened on his end?

  By the time she had finished the mad dash to the airport, she knew where she was going. Las Vegas. Not exactly where she thought he would be heading. Close to three hours of travel time and a tense taxi ride later, she had slipped into Mandalay Bay Casino and Hotel. It was just before nine, making her one of the last admissions to Shark Reef for the day. All things considered, she probably shouldn’t have been annoyed that she had to pay $25 dollars to get in. Travelling from Florida to Vegas last minute had obviously cost a lot more. But it was the principle of the thing. Couldn’t Aleksandr have picked one of the thousands of other heavily populated places that had free admission?

  A chill lingered in the air as she made her way through the submerged tunnels. Colorful reefs were built up on either side of her, brimming with tropical fish and eels. Spotlights were set over the water above her. It turned the water a clear, crystal blue. An unsettlingly large shark swam lazily towards the glass. At the last moment, it changed course, skirting over the top of the dome and casting a dark shadow over her as it passed. The bottom tip of its tail skimmed across the thick glass, stirring up the water and making it swirl down the hallway.

  Goosebumps rose up on her skin as she wandered down the dim corridors. She had a jacket in the duffle bag strapped to her back, but she didn’t make a move to get it out. At five foot tall, she wasn’t intimidating. All she had to deter an attack was her hard-earned bulk. Since it was almost closing time, the crowds that would normally be cluttering the passageways had thinned, leaving only a few stragglers. Without the people, it was easier to hear the soft tune playing over the loudspeakers. It was barely more than a mumble and offered little competition to the echo of the footsteps. The clipped thuds rolled towards her long before she saw who was making them. And since she was nearing a junction that branched out into numerous hallways, it was hard to pinpoint where anyone was. At least it’s impossible for someone to creep up on me.

  From the moment she had received the text, she hadn’t been able to silence the voice that repeated the same warning in the back of her head. I don’t know what they look like. They could be anyone. She was well aware that there were some Sokolovsky kids whom she was yet to meet. And she knew that they took after their parents. Highly trained, motivated, gleeful killers. They know me, the voice continued when she couldn’t silence it. They know my number. They probably know what I look like. They could have followed me here.

  A pair of teenagers ran past, shrieking playfully as they chased each other through the halls, neither one taking special care to avoid hitting anything. Evelyn moved out of the way, heart lurching into her throat, her hands instantly balling into fists. She barely managed to keep herself from striking out as her shoulder smacked against the glass. It felt like a slab of ice against her bare skin, the shock jerking her from her budding panic. Get your act together, Eve, she hissed to herself as she followed the teens with her eyes. They entered the bulbous room at the end of the hallway and disappeared from sight. It was then that she noticed the man. The bright yellow light that illuminated the room hit him from behind, letting shadows streak across his face. They didn’t hide his face, but distorted it, sharpening his features, and leaving his eyes as dark discs. He was barely visible around the corner, but she knew he was watching her.

  Pushing off from the wall, Evelyn held his gaze and squared her shoulders, wanting him to know that he was on her radar. He watched her for a moment longer. Silent. Still. Her heart pounded against her r
ibs and she clenched her jaw, determined not to let it show. Slowly, he turned and disappeared down another passageway.

  Her breath released in one sudden rush. Strong enough that she had to brace a hand against the glass wall to keep from doubling over. She hated herself in that moment. She felt weak, useless, and pathetic. She detested it all. Rolling her shoulders, she tilted her head from side to side, determined to get her body back under control. That turned out to be the easy part. It was far harder to get her mind on board. She couldn’t chase off the thought that all anyone really needed was one decent shot. One second. It all played out in her mind’s eye. A meaningless bump as they passed in the street. Slide a knife between her ribs. Fade back into the crowd and disappear before anyone knew what happened. She could bleed to death in the gutter without ever seeing who had ended her life.

  Growling in frustration, she pushed her hands through the tight crinkles of her hair. She had cut it short for the competition and was still getting used to how the ends abruptly gave way to the skin of her neck. What had started as exploring the strange new sensation had become a habit. She ran her hands over her hair a few more times before rubbing at the tense muscles of her neck. Dad’s not going to like this. She knew it as a fact. It was just a matter of time. Judy had, in the end, accepted her original story of a friend in distress at face value. That didn’t mean she hadn’t pressed for more information. For now, Judy had agreed to head home. But Evelyn knew it was only a matter of time before she started comparing notes with her father. And that could cause problems down the line.

  For now, her father gave every appearance of being onboard. Perhaps it was just because their conversation had been interrupted by the alarm. Being a devoted father and a decorated firefighter didn’t always go hand in hand. Sometimes, he had to focus on one thing and let the other slide. Since his daughter was safe, he had turned his attention to the apartment complex that was currently alight.

  Unable to dwell on his paranoia, he could only focus on the facts she had presented. Simply, that she was meeting up with an old friend in a fun town. It told her how introverted she had been lately, that he was excited by the idea of her socializing in a way that didn’t involve hitting someone in the face. Besides that, it was Vegas. Well-lit, heavily populated, and surveillance everywhere. In his enthusiasm, he had insisted on paying for her room. That worked out surprisingly well. Aleksandr now worked at the Polaris, a grand new hotel with a galactic theme. It was right in the middle of The Strip. Perfect placement to make her father feel his little girl was safe and secure.

  The sound of thundering feet raced towards her and made her jump. Evelyn whipped around, arms instinctively rising up into a boxer’s defensive stance. Her flash of panic got a bit confusing as she spotted two small children barreling towards her. They were miniature tornados, shrieking and laughing and flailing their arms about. Their novelty hoodies were far too large. The hoods were supposed to make them look like their faces were coming out of a shark’s mouth. For these two, the hoods flopped down and covered half of their faces like masks. The combination of too long sleeves and hyped-up movement made them look like the flailing tube men Evelyn had spotted outside of car dealerships. A smile curled her lips until she noticed they were coming right towards her. Her fingers clenched into a fist, and she wondered if she should take a swing at a child.

  “Eve!” a familiar chorus of voices cried.

  She had barely known them for a day, but their voices were forever burned into the back of her mind. Ivan and Nadya.

  “Hey, guys,” she lowered her arms and stretched her hands out, figuring that their excitement probably meant they were going to get a high-five. They had been strangely persistent about giving her one when they had parted.

  It hadn’t even occurred to her that they would lock onto her legs. Their thin arms held a surprising amount of strength as they wrapped around her thighs. They felt like boa constrictors, squeezing until she could feel her heartbeat pulsing in her compressed limbs.

  “Hey,” she stammered.

  The whole scenario got stranger when they popped their heads up to grin at her, faces still hidden under a goofy shark face. How they could see through the gray material was beyond her. Admittedly, it was the only time they had really looked like Aleksandr. She flipped the hoods back and studied their faces. How are they still so similar? It seemed to go against nature and hormones for them to be so identical at their age. The points of their chins dug into her hipbones as they grinned up at her.

  “So, which one’s which?” she asked with a smile of her own.

  They chirped their names. There was a decent chance that they were lying.

  “How have you guys been?” Evelyn asked.

  They said ‘good’ in unison, sounding so much like normal little kids. Albeit, kids far younger than they actually were. If she remembered correctly, these two were eleven, quickly approaching their teen years. This was quickly getting disorientating.

  “Where’s Aleksandr?”

  “He’s behind us,” the one that had identified himself as Ivan said.

  “He’s always slow when we come here,” Nadya added.

  Evelyn nodded. Having had a lot of time to obsess over every detail of her encounter, Evelyn had developed a theory about Aleksandr. Mostly that he just didn’t like water. Everyone else in his family had kept themselves relatively clean and presentable. As much as they could be while running around in the desert. Meanwhile, Aleksandr had looked like he had just crawled his way out of a grave. Dirt smeared skin, hair matted into clumps, and carrying with him the ever-present scent of sweat and blood. At the time, she thought he just didn’t see hygiene as a priority. God knows he had more pressing problems, she thought. But the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if there had been another reason.

  “There he is,” Nadya said.

  Evelyn looked up to see a couple of men at the end of the corridor. At first, she was a little confused as to why she couldn’t pick him out of the limited crowd. Then it hit her; this was the first time she had ever seen most of his face. The entire time they had been in the ghost town, Aleksandr had worn his grimy hair like a shield. It had covered his face down to the tip of his nose, leaving only his jawline and mouth exposed. She had never even seen his eyes. They had almost died together, almost killed each other, and she had no idea what the hell he really looked like.

  Facial recognition or not, she remembered his body. For a moment, she had been sure her life depended on being able to beat him to death. She had sized him up very carefully for a fight and wasn’t about to forget that. His height, strong arms, broad shoulders atop a rickety frame. Like a Frankenstein monster, it didn’t seem like any of his body parts belonged with the others. She craned her neck and spotted Aleksandr stalking towards them, shoulders hunched, and jaw clenched.

  Evelyn wasn’t prepared for how comforting it would be to come face to face with Aleksandr for the first time since they had gone their separate ways. He hadn’t completely abandoned his habit of hiding behind his hair. His sweeping fringe covered one eye, the hair lighter and softer now that it was actually clean. A scruffy half-hearted attempt at a beard covered his jaw and enclosed his mouth. It was the kind of facial hair that could suggest either a ‘struggling artist’ type or one too lazy to shave each morning. His cheekbones were as sharp and straight as his nose, elongating his face, with no fat to fill it out. Unlike his siblings, his eyes were narrow, and shielded under a strong brow bone. It gave him a direct, uncomfortably piercing gaze and turned his eyes into black discs. Shark-like. His stare threw her so much that she almost missed the fact that he was clean. Head to toe. There wasn’t even a single stain or tear on his well-fitted shirt. And that was just strange. Like he was wearing a costume. He grunted to them as he got closer, passing by them without breaking stride.

  “I guess we’re moving,” Evelyn muttered to the kids.

  The twins each grabbed one of her hands. An innocent act that left Evelyn wi
th an ominous twist in her gut. Still, she didn’t let go, walking along with them as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Like they had done it a thousand times before. Turtles and stingrays swept past them. Their footsteps beat against the floor like the pounding of a drum. It didn’t take long to catch up with Aleksandr, but no one seemed inclined to talk. At least, not about anything relevant. The twins would sporadically gush about a shark or a particularly bright fish.

  Just as Evelyn began to think he was stalling, she realized that they had done a loop around the exhibit and were now back in the bulbous, yellow junction room. That’s when it clicked. Since Mandalay Bay had stopped admittance for the day, the loop had allowed Aleksandr to take stock of everyone who was left in the exhibit. Apparently, there was no one he was worried about because he picked a spot halfway down one of the hallways, where it would be impossible for anyone to creep up on them unseen. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the dome wall and turned his sharp gaze onto Evelyn. The twins still had her hands in surprisingly strong grips. So, I can’t do a surprise attack, Evelyn realized.

  Forcing a smile, she gestured to Aleksandr with her chin. “You look good.”

  Nadya tugged her hand sharply. “Don’t objectify him.”

  The teasing glint in her eye was hard to miss, but Evelyn wasn’t ready to rise to the bait.

  “I just meant that he’s put on weight.”

  “So now you’re body shaming?” Ivan demanded, face scrunching up in mock mortification.

  Their matching scowls weren’t enough to hide the mirth in their eyes. It was clear that she was the butt of their joke.

  “You know,” Evelyn said with a put-upon sigh, “if you’re going to make me play your games, at least let me in on the rules.”

  “We’re not playing a game,” Ivan said, the picture of innocence.

  “So, you’re just annoying?” Evelyn teased.

  “I blame TV.”

  There was a roughness to Aleksandr’s voice that normally only came from disuse. Or smoke inhalation. He spoke as if he resented each syllable passing his lips and was the only one that still had his Russian accent.