The air burned, and the sky wept ash. Everything was painted orange and yellow by the light of the flames, which were everywhere. So hot were the flames, and so long had they burned, that even the ground was warm to the touch.
From his hiding place beneath the rubble of his neighbor's home, Ogilvy watched. His face was stained with dirt and ash and blood, and his clothes were singed and torn. He had been trapped inside the house when the raiders first set flame to it, and hid beneath a crawlspace before it collapsed. The rubble trapped him under the house, and opened up enough of a vantage for him to see the carnage as it unfolded in his tow