The Condemned by Claire Jolliff

hand.
       Beriael uttered a foul string of curses that she took as a less than polite way of asking her to get a move on. The flames were spreading upwards and engulfing his shoulders, licking his earlobes. With a strange kind of detachment it occurred to her that it was fortunate he had no hair, for if he had, that too would’ve been ablaze by now.
       ‘Ok, Ok, I got it. You can let go.’
       The Clone grunted something unintelligible and released his hold on the dead guard who dropped heavily to the floor, dragging Alecia with him as she kept hold of the key card that was still attached to him. She hefted the item to the small metal box, stuck to the side of the door, that she assumed had to be the lock. Inspecting it closely, the light from the blaze of Beriael provided enough for her to see the darker strip along one side of the card. She had never seen anything like this before, never used one but logic told her to slide it down the narrow gap that ran from top to bottom of the lock. The weight of the guard prevented her from lifting the card high enough to slot it into the top.
       She was mildly aware that she was beginning to panic.
       Her palms were sweating and her heart was pumping so loudly she was certain the only reason she couldn’t hear it was that Beriael’s screams were pretty much the only thing she could hear.
       ‘Shut up, just shut up. I can’t concentrate with you fucking screaming and you’re gonna have all the rest of the guards here. Shut the fuck UP man!’
       As she spoke her fingers worked at unattaching the card from the small clip on the strap and she held it up with something like triumph when it came away, free from the burden of the body it had been attached to.
       Unceremoniously kicking aside the dead man; he was no longer burning, when the flames had reached the suit he wore they had died and since Alecia had no interest in keeping them active when he was already dead, there was nothing to reignite them. His body slid easily across the well-polished marble floor of the narrow corridor and back into the doorway of Alecia’s own cell. She slid the card from top to bottom in the slot and stepped back.
       Nothing happened.
       Beriael was more muttering angry threats and curses now instead of yelling and creating a lot of noise but she knew it wouldn’t be long before somebody else arrived and when they did, not only would chances of freedom vanish...
    She would be punished painfully for the death of the prison employee and perhaps too for whatever damage was done to the Clone. Though, she reasoned, that was sort of irrelevant since he was only a Clone and he wou-
       ‘THE OTHER WAY. TRY THE OTHER FUCKING WAY YOU STUPID CUNT!’
       She jumped in surprise as the agonised man’s words cut off her thoughts. It took a moment to realise what he meant before she turned the card and slid it down again with the darkened strip facing the other side, casting him a slight scowl and muttering to herself.
       ‘No need to speak to me like that, you fucking dick.’
    She didn’t think he heard her over his own pain, that was probably a good thing.
       The door issued the familiar whirr-click and smoothly opened inwards, as it did Alecia was struck with an idea and ran back to her own cell. She stepped over the motionless body in the doorway.
       Gathering up the discarded hood and glove, the removal of which had been the downfall of the idiot guard; really, what had he been thinking? Risking his life for a prisoner? He had to be new to the system. Couldn’t have known who she was or what she could do. She doubted any of them who really knew would’ve ever been so moronic. They were stupid, yes, but they weren’t suicidal.
       Turning back to the door, she half expected it to have swung shut behind her, cutting off her escape and thwarting what now appeared to be the only chance she’d ever have to get out of here. Instead she was met by Beriael