Realization dawned in Woolf’s eyes, and he turned back to Galen, speaking rapidly. Marcus couldn’t hear him, but he could tell that at least some of his hearing was returning; the dull roar that had previously sounded like white noise had resolved into a chorus of gunfire, echoes from the battle in the other room. He hunkered down, trying to think of some way to use the lack of link to their advantage and escape. Samm had said that the link was so ingrained in the Partials that they’d forgotten, after twelve years, how to fight an enemy that didn’t have it. There has to be a way. . . .

Woolf grabbed Marcus by his undamaged arm and gestured toward the equipment on the other side of the room. Marcus leaned toward, offering his ear, and Woolf shouted in it. “We have some shovels in our survival gear—we’re going to try to hack through the side wall.”

“What’s on the other side?” asked Marcus.

Woolf sketched on the carpet with his finger, making an impression that looked vaguely like the waiting room and the surrounding doors. “If I’ve calculated it right, we’re only two rooms away from Trimble’s hallway. Cutting through is the quickest way out of the building.”

Marcus nodded. “What if the walls are reinforced?”

“Then we think of something else.”

The three men ran in a low crouch to their gear. The small survival shovels were some of the only gear they’d been allowed to keep; they couldn’t hurt Partials with them, but they could certainly do some damage to the walls. The battle continued to rage in the room beyond, and Woolf used its cacophony to hide his assault on the wall.

“Here goes nothing.” He slammed the shovel into the wall . . .

. . . and it cleaved through easily.

“It’s just Sheetrock,” said Woolf. He pulled his shovel back out, aimed another strike, and hacked out a chunk of the wall. Inside was a layer of pink insulation, and beyond that another Sheetrock wall. Woolf said something Marcus couldn’t hear, presumably triumphant and vulgar, and handed spare shovels to Galen and Marcus. No one was coming through the door to stop them; the Partials were too preoccupied to follow them, and without the link to give them away, they could work with impunity. Marcus got to work on the wall, and soon the three men had opened a man-size hole they could squirm through into the next room.