Page 1 of All He Sees
PROLOGUE
All Mira could hear were the rapid sounds of her own breaths. Light bled in through the holes punctured in the box she'd been trapped inside. She wasn’t sure what it was—a wooden crate, it seemed, but how did she get here? She had no idea--but she was stuck, and she needed to get out.
Breathe, Mira, she told herself. Be still. You can do this.
But she didn't know if she could.
Outside of the box, Mira could hear voices--people talking. The smell of salt, like the sea, leaked in through the holes.
Mira swallowed, trying to dismiss the growing feeling of panic, and took a deep breath. She had to find a way out of this. She inched forward, her breath hitching, and put her hand to the lid of the box. She had to work fast.
But the wood was sturdy, and she knew she had to be careful. She closed her eyes and tried to focus. She had to get out. She had to.
Mira focused on the breath she was taking in and slowly exhaled. She repeated it slowly, over and over again. She had to stay calm.
She reached forward and touched the wood. Slowly, she moved her hand to the side and felt the wood, trying to find a way to lift it. It wouldn’t budge. Feeling desperate, Mira moved her hand around the box, her heart pounding in her chest. Her head ached with the effort.
Nothing was working.
Focus. But as she kept holding her breath and letting it out, her hands were practically shaking from the effort to stay calm.
She couldn't stay calm forever. Her heart was beating so fast that soon enough, she was sure her captors would hear it.
Turning back to the box, Mira put her hands to the wood. She pushed. The wood was worn and old, and she had to push with every ounce of strength before—finally—she got it to move.
With a creak, the top of box slid open, and the dim, flickering light from the lamps that flanked the side of the room flooded in. There were more boxes, but Mira could hardly see; if she had to guess—she was on a boat of some kind. A freighter, maybe.
Don't overthink it, she told herself. Just go.
Mira tiptoed as quietly as she could toward a door that led down a long corridor, and to her surprise, it was slightly ajar. Maybe they'd forgotten to lock it. Maybe they'd left it open. Maybe--
She stopped when she heard a voice, right behind the door. Mira gasped and stumbled back, nearly hitting another box. No—she had to hide. She couldn’t let them catch her. Without another thought, she ran in the opposite direction, dodging boxes.
The lights went off.
Mira nearly screamed. Darkness engulfed her. Go, she told herself. Go toward the door. Just do it. Get away.
But how was she supposed to go toward the door when she couldn't see? She reached out and felt the wall. It was metal and hot to the touch, and she pulled her hand back. The floor shifted beneath her, rocking like they were on water. But she had to find her way out.
The voices were vague. The smell of salt was strong. It burned her eyes, causing them to water.
Go. She repeated to herself. Go. She kept ducking around boxes, hoping to find her way back to that door so she could sneak out while her captors were busy looking for her.
Then, out of nowhere—a hand grabbed her wrist.
A scream grated Mira’s throat. Her body was roughly dragged to the ground. She kicked, trying to get away, but it was too tight. The person had her wrist in an iron grip, and he began dragging her through the room like she was a ragdoll.
“Let me go!” she yelled, kicking and screaming, but the person—the man—kept pulling her through the maze of boxes.
There was no escape.
"Help!" she screamed, but her assailant didn't say a word--just dragged her with immense strength. Mira kicked and screamed again, but it was no use. "Help!" Her throat became raw, painful from screaming, but the man kept dragging her.
Help never came.
CHAPTER ONE
Clouds churned in the sky above the prison, sending a cool breeze that cut through Agent Nicky Lyons's jacket. The storm was brewing violently, and a grumble of thunder took over the sky. She stared up at the tall, looming building, dreading going inside.
