Ashes of Time (The After Cilmeri Series) by Sarah Woodbury Page B

these small communities
were, with little in the way of infrastructure, including poor to
nonexistent cell phone coverage or internet. While a big city might
provide anonymity, a small, friendly town might close ranks around
them. Plus, it had less surveillance.
    “ It’s a huge relief to
think that it might take some time for the government to find us,”
Mom said. “I feel sorry for the poor schmuck on duty if he realizes
that something has happened and has to call his superior away from
his Thanksgiving dinner.”
    Callum let out a mocking snort. “I was that
schmuck once. It isn’t fun. Maybe he’ll take a few minutes to work
up his courage.”
    “ It’s been a few minutes,”
Mom said. “We’ve talked about best case scenarios. What’s the
worst?”
    Everyone looked at Callum, who chewed on his
lower lip. But it was Art who answered, “They see you’re here, a
call is made, then more calls. The closest FBI field office is in
Portland. Three hours away.”
    “ It wouldn’t be the FBI,”
Callum said. “Homeland Security, maybe.”
    “ Salem, then,” Art said. “A
little farther.”
    Nobody asked him how he knew that, and Art
didn’t say. Cassie seemed to take it for granted that he’d have
that knowledge at his fingertips.
    “ What about local cops?”
Mom said.
    Art pursed his lips. “Pendleton police,
tribal police, county sheriff, and state patrol.”
    “ Without knowing who of you
has come through, they would have no alert to send out,” Callum
said. “They’d have to send someone to the site, and then track you
back.”
    “ I don’t see that happening
tonight,” Cassie said.
    Art pulled into a driveway and stopped the
truck. Anna hadn’t been paying attention to where they were going,
but everyone got out of the truck, so she did too. They followed
Art across the porch to the front door of the house. It was a small
two-story. Their arrival included the return of Cassie’s uncles and
cousins, who’d intended to search for Mom and Anna and had followed
them back, so now the house was full to bursting.
    “ What if it did?” Anna
whispered the words to Cassie.
    She bit her lip. “I hope I didn’t speak too
soon.”
    The turkey had come out of the oven only
three minutes before, and the house was full of delicious smells.
Anna was curious to taste modern food again, with all its chemicals
and additives. Would it taste bad to her? As it turned out,
however, Cassie’s family did things the old fashioned way, and the
table in the kitchen was loaded with unprocessed food not that
different from what they’d been serving at Rhuddlan earlier that
day, except that instead of roast pork and chicken, they were
eating turkey and a bunch of other New World foods not available in
Wales in the Middle Ages.
    Five minutes later, Anna found herself with
a loaded plate, sitting on a couch in the living room between
Cassie and one of her eighteen-year-old male cousins. “So,” the boy
said through enormous bites of food he wasn’t bothering to chew
before swallowing, “how do you know Cassie?”
    Anna glanced at Cassie. From their
conversation in the truck, Anna had understood that Cassie had told
something of her story to her relations, but obviously not to this
one or not the whole story. Admittedly, the whole story was pretty
far-fetched.
    “ I met Anna and Meg while I
was away,” Cassie said between her own bites of food.
    “ In Scotland?” he
said.
    “ Right,” Cassie
said.
    Fortunately, before he
could ask any more questions, Cassie’s grandfather approached, and
the boy stood up so Art could sit down. Art began to eat with utter
focus, chewing each bite thoroughly. Nobody said anything. Anna
thought about repeating a phrase her mother would sometimes say
when David brought his friends home: all’s
quiet while the beasts feed , but she didn’t
know that everyone would get it and didn’t want anyone—especially
Art—to take offense.
    Fortunately, before Anna could put her foot
in