He nodded and spun on his heel to jog down the corridor toward the nearest exit. The smoke was getting thicker and the lights were long gone, but he'd been spending enough time traversing these hallways that he had a pretty good sense of where he needed to go.

Not that that helped when he realized that he was headed toward a pretty substantial mess. McCoy pulled up short as he rounded a corner -- it had been getting hotter but, truthfully, he hadn't been paying all that much attention to it and damn him for doing do -- and found himself looking at hell itself.

Debris and flame blocked the exit -- not the only exit, thankfully, but the one closest to where he needed to be. He reversed course and headed back the way he came, communicator in hand. "McCoy to Spock." He coughed, cleared his throat. "That exit's blocked. We're gonna need another way out."