Sirens wailed loudly, the emergency lights carving a momentary path through the thick smoke as the guards coughed and spluttered. They shouted orders as they pushed prisoners out the doors and into waiting vans.
What had started as a seemingly innocuous fire in the laundry room had somehow been missed and, with a feast of material to gorge on, had exploded into the main body of the prison, forcing an evacuation.

Smoke filled every nook and crevice and the understaffed guards dragged prisoners out like ark animals. The less offenders had been sent to the yard, told to await the outcome while the majority of the guards returned for the more dangerous prisoners.

In his cell, Charles Hoyt smiled, his weathered face curling into an expression of sheer delight as the smoke around him got thicker. He knew that there would be one chance. One split second where he could make his move and, one reason to do so.

The buzzing sound that indicated the cell doors on his floor opening ripped through the already frantic scene and almost immediately, footsteps clanged on the gridded metal floor.

“Dr.” He didn’t need to see the person who spoke to him, he knew this would work. He’d had many years to perfect his plan and phase one was going superbly. “It’s time.”

The guards appeared at his door, he could tell they were exhausted and finding it hard to breathe. “C’mon Hoyt!” It wasn’t a question but an order and Hoyt pulled himself to his feet, allowing them to handcuff him and place a blanket over his head to protect from the smoke. He felt the resentment radiate from them for having to perform such and act and it thrilled him. He knew they would sooner let him burn. It wouldn’t take much to incapacitate them in their current state.
As they descended the stairs, it got harder to see. Hoyt smiled. The fire must have been raging for longer than he’d thought. The entire building was dense with smoke and he coughed violently. The guards lost their already fragile grip on the man and he crumpled to the ground.