Maybe. Just maybe.
I pushed the jagged bolt into the seam where the top and side panel met. It slipped once, skittering off the smooth interiorwall. I gritted my teeth and tried again, pressing harder. I found the weak point in the weld, the place where the panel flexed.
Good.
I braced my feet against the opposite wall, knees bent a bit awkwardly and shoved upward with everything I had.
The bolt bit in.
Not much.
Just enough.
A faintclinkechoed from above me. The metal groaned.
I worked the bolt like a chisel, scraping and wedging along the seam. Sweat rolled down my spine, the inside of the crate getting warmer by the second. My fingers kept cramping, but I didn’t stop.
Then, suddenly, the edge gave.
I gasped as the top panel shifted half an inch. Light spilled in through the gap.I froze, my trusty bolt clenched in my palm.
Waited.
One breath.
Two.
Nothing.
I exhaled slowly, then pushed the panel again. This time it shifted more easily. Another inch. Then two. Then a few more.
It didn’t open all the way, but I could feel the gap now, maybe wide enough to squeeze through if I could twist my body the right way. The angle would be hell. My legs were already numb.
Didn’t matter.
I was getting out.
I tucked the bolt into the waistband of my pants, pressed my shoulder against the widened gap, and began to push. Every inch fought me. The panel was still partially sealed, and the flex of metal made a soft groaning sound I couldn’t muffle, but I got my fingers under the edge and shoved.
Pain lanced through my shoulder.
I grunted.
A pair of boots scraped nearby. Voices again.
Time was up.
I gave one last, desperate push, and the panel snapped upward with a harsh, metallic pop.
I winced.
The crate creaked. The panel hung partially open now, a rough diagonal slice of light pouring in. I could hear footsteps approaching fast.
Too late.
I grabbed the edge, hauled myself up, and slithered halfway out, my arms dragging over the lip as I tried to orient myself. The cargo hold around me was enormous, a labyrinth of stacked shipping containers, steel beams, and chains swaying gently with the movement of the ship.
I landed hard on my elbows outside the crate, rolling to the side just as one of the guards turned the corner.
