The artic snow fell sideways through the heat as fire consumed the two building in front of them. Not even the cold of the extreme north could put out the fires currently burning.
Ash intermingled with the soft snowflakes as they floated on the wind. The combination turned the flakes gray before they hit the ground. The yard glowed orange from the two burning buildings, windows coughing fire, roofs sagging in slow, painful breaths.
Steel moaned and groaned somewhere inside the building on the left and then stopped quickly, leaving a deafening silence. The sky above them went the color of a bad bruise, and heat rolled over the concrete in waves.
And still, the small group of five walked through the destruction like it was nothing at all.
Zubair went first. He had his sleeves shoved to his elbows and his hands open at his sides. The fire bowed away from him as if it recognized its master.
