He walks over to a box and pulls out a shovel.
“The blade is rusted,” you observe. “Or whatever you call the part that does the actual digging. I doubt it would work very well on walls if it were in better shape, for that matter.”
“There’s a mallet here, too,” Anthony says, handing you the shovel. “I figured we could try to crack the all, put the shovel in as a wedge, and then try pushing it further in with the mallet.”
“And then the shovel breaks because it’s all rusty.” Which is odd, now that you think about it. Did it rust inside the box, or did somebody put it here rather than throwing it away?
“That’s just on the surface, there’s no serious structural damage,” Anthony replies. “I know a thing or two about shovels. At worst it might bend a little.”
He swings the mallet at the wall chute, and it cracks a little. Barely wide enough to get the shovel in, but after a few swings of the mallet, it definitely seems to be going further in.
Soon after, the shovel goes flying out. It seems your hole has connected to the other side.
“Hey! Can you hear me?” a voice shouts. You can’t tell who it is – maybe Carter, maybe another grebling? There’s a lot of noise out there.
“I can hear you, but it’s hard!” you shout back.
“Great, we’ve got a line of contact!” they shout. It doesn’t sound directed at you, but the next part does. “Acknowledged. We’ll have you out soon, but first you need to listen closely to what I’m about to tell you.”