Everest is standing in a room next to another figure. A larger figure. My mate’s hands are shaking, but the other person is completely stoic. Calm.
“Ready, Son?” the man says, directing the question at Everest. So it’s his Dad then. He gulps and nods, moving his eyes towards the floor.
The ‘camera’ zooms out. There’s another person in a chair, legs tied to the feet of it and waist strapped tightly to the back. It’s a girl. Her dark hair falls over her face as her head hangs forward. Unconscious. Those dark locks haunt me; they look familiar.
“Go ahead, then.” Everest’s father tells his son, handing him a shining syringe.
“Why can’t you do it?” his voice trembles as he speaks. For the first time, I actually see Everest looking vulnerable.
There’s a level of uncertainty behind those eye
