You scale the rocks insanely quickly, fingers and toes gripping the rock face and moving with practiced efficiency. At one point, you leap—completely airborne—to make it to a higher ledge.
At the top, you can see miles of park. The water in a small ravine. Rings of joggers creeping around the park. A few figures catch your eye—the guitarist strumming for a small crowd, a child throwing a tantrum, a boy all in black standing still checking his phone—
As you look at the boy, his eyes raise.
He looks right at you. You’re at least forty yards from him, but he’s looking right at you. Your stomach clenches and your heart pounds. The signals your body is giving you say one thing:
What do you do?