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The wind roared in my ears as I slowly moved to the edge of the bridge, holding on to the blue metal bar. We were so high up the hunters and fallen milling around the tower below were red and blue dots.
“People used to jump off this? For fun?” A sudden gust blew, making me stumble forward. I gripped the bar so tight that the whites of my knuckles popped from beneath my skin.
We were halfway up the tower’s eye. Directly below was a large blue square with a bull’s-eye in the center. Nevada had explained that before the war, people did what was called bungee jumping off the bridge. I guessed they aimed for the bull’s-eyes to land—preferably in one piece.
Nevada leaned casually against the bridge’s flimsy railing. Lukas stood beside her, one hand gripping the railing and the other hover
