“We’ll talk later,” said Delarosa, tossing each of them a dark cloak mottled with green and brown. “Wear these, and stay as quiet as you can. If you attract any Partials, we’ll leave you to them.”

“Understood,” said Woolf.

Marcus threw the cloak over his shoulders, covering his pack and weapon and everything, and pulled the hood up over his head. The White Rhinos moved almost silently through the trees, Yoon’s black panther ranging ahead like a malevolent shadow. Marcus did his best to stay as quiet as they did, but found himself constantly stepping on twigs or clattering chunks of broken concrete into one another. Delarosa glanced at him angrily on more than one occasion, but she seemed to glare at Woolf and Galen just as often. Vinci was far more stealthy, though still outclassed by Yoon and some of the more experienced guerrillas. It made Marcus wonder again about the different abilities of the various Partial models—Vinci was infantry, likely not built for infiltration. Heron, who had once terrified Marcus by appearing ghostlike from the shadows, definitely was.

While they walked, Marcus studied the White Rhinos. Most of them were in Partial uniforms—old, weathered uniforms, but still recognizably Partial. Claimed from fallen enemies? he wondered. He also noticed that all of them carried a gas mask, hung from a belt or dangling from their backpacks. That seemed odd, as the Partials didn’t seem to be using any chemical weapons, but when he looked again at the Partial uniforms he smiled, realizing with a burst of excitement exactly what was going on. At the first rest stop he approached Yoon about it.

“You’re disguising yourselves as Partials,” he said, keeping his voice at a barely audible whisper. “The gas masks block the link, so you put them on and wear those uniforms and the Partials can’t tell from a distance that you’re human.”

Yoon smirked. “Pretty clever, don’t you think?”

Marcus whistled softly. “It’s amazing. Everyone’s wondering how you’ve managed to hide for so long, but with a disguise like that you could walk right up to them.”

“Only the ones who look like Partials,” said Yoon. “McArthur’s too young, Delarosa’s too old, but I can pass pretty easily—they think I’m a tank driver, for some reason.”

“Samm said the drivers and pilots are all petite girls,” said Marcus, marveling at the deception. “Apparently they saved the government a lot of money, building smaller tanks and jets. So you’ve actually talked to them? And they didn’t suspect anything?”