Leo Fall Durability

	As they wobbled and zigzagged, Piper could make out details of the factory complex below—warehouses, smokestacks, barbed-wire fences, and parking lots lined with snow-covered vehicles. They were still high enough so that hitting the ground would flatten them into roadkill—or skykill —when Jason groaned, “I can’t—”
	And they dropped like stones. They hit the roof of the largest warehouse and crashed through into darkness.
...
	“Ow, bro!” Leo groaned. “That’s my back! I’m not a sofa! Piper, where’d you go?”
	“Here,” she managed, her voice a whimper.
	She heard shuffling and grunting, then feet pounding on metal steps.
	Her vision began to clear. She was on a metal catwalk that ringed the warehouse interior. Leo and Jason had landed on ground level, and were now coming up the stairs toward her. She looked at her foot, and wave of nausea swept over her. Her toes weren’t supposed to point that way, were they?
...
	The hole they’d made in the roof was a ragged starburst twenty feet above. How they’d even survived that drop, she had no idea.