I can’t see a thing and the air is whipping in my ears as we race toward the ground. Then again, I have my eyes squeezed shut so tight that I’m liable to burst a blood vessel or three, which will happen anyway when we hit the ground. I hear a whistling sound, followed by a grunt from Ben. “Are you okay?” I scream. “For now.” He moves his arms, then we’re tugged upward so abruptly that it feels like someone’s kicked my chest and sent me shooting backwards. My eyes fly open. I gasp against the pain, trying to suck in air, then scream again as a building looms in front of us. Forget the street, we’re going to make out with glass like a bug on a windshield during rush hour. Whether it was a change in the wind direction or Ben controlling the chute, we somehow manage to avoid it. We miss the next building as well, and I allow myself to relax, to trust that he will keep me safe. I glance over my shoulder at him. His face is hard, gaze locked on the London skyline. His hands are fisted around two black pulls, and I realize that is how we’ve escaped smashing into buildings.
