They were doing over a hundred miles per hour by the time they got on the bridge, one of the longest causeways in the world. Because cargo and cruise ships crossed beneath it into the port, the bridge rose to two hundred thirty-six feet at its highest point over the water.
“How long will it take us to get to our rendezvous point?” López asked in Raven’s ear. Every word sounded like it took supreme effort.
She gauged the distance on the eight-mile-long bridge that stretched out before her. “Ninety seconds.”
“Ninety seconds?” He must have done the mental calculation because he coughed and said, “The middle of the bridge?”
“Right. We’re going to jump off.”
“At this height? We’ll kill ourselves!” His yell produced another coughing fit.
“No we won’t. We’re going bungee jumping.”
Raven slowed when she saw the orange paint they’d sprayed on the railing the night before. It was nearly at the highest section, carefully chosen for that reason and for the distance between pilings.
She screeched to a halt in the right lane beside the paint marker and got off the bike. She removed a flare from the side case, lit it, and threw it behind the motorcycle so they wouldn’t get run over. Linc, who pulled to a stop next to her, did the same.
The guardrail was designed like a series of three-foot-high concrete benches abutted end to end.
“We’re at the rendezvous,” Linc said.
“We’re prepared to catch you,” Juan replied. “I’ve got a medical team standing by.”
López pulled himself off the bike. He looked woozy and pale. His lower torso was soaked in blood.
“You people are nuts.”
“It’s a living,” Raven said, pulling three harnesses from her other side case. Linc had the bungee cords they would attach to them. The orange marker told him where to connect the cords to the bridge, at intervals twenty feet apart, so they wouldn’t slam into each other on the way down. The bungee lengths had been precisely measured to match the height of the bridge at this spot and according to their respective weights.
Raven eased López into his harness and was impressed that he didn’t cry out in pain. Maybe he was in shock. She slipped on her own, and handed the last one to Linc, before attaching herself and López to the bungees.
“Ever done this?” she asked him as she kept an eye on the road behind them. She was expecting either the Porsche or the cops to show up at any moment.
“Been skydiving twice,” López said. His teeth were starting to chatter.
“Same thing. Don’t think about it. Just jump.”
“Our friends are back,” Linc said, pointing down the road. The black SUV was weaving through cars, trying to get to them faster. Blue lights flashed farther behind them. “If we can get over the side before they arrive, we’ll be safe. No way they’ll stop to tangle with the police.”
They escorted López over to the railing and helped him climb up so that he was sitting with his feet dangling two hundred feet above the water.
“This is going to hurt,” Raven said.
“I know,” López said. “Push me.”
Raven didn’t have time to ask him if he was serious. She gave him a shove.
Then she went over to her own spot and jumped.
For a couple of seconds she floated weightlessly, enough time to wonder if the bungee was going to hold or if she would just plunge straight into the water at a speed that would render the surface as hard as cement.
But she started to feel a gentle tug as the cord began to stretch. She slowly came to a stop three feet above the water and then snapped back until she was halfway up to the bridge deck. She turned her head to see Linc and López rebounding just like her.
After several bounces, they all came to rest, dangling from the bridge like marionettes. Below her and to the side, she saw the Gator. The hatch slid open, and Juan pulled himself out.
Raven activated the quick release on her harness and dove into the water. She surfaced, and Juan pulled her aboard the Gator. Linc quickly followed.
López remained hanging where he was. He was unconscious.