Standard Disclaimer: No copyrighted material used in this chapter belongs to me. This story belongs to Linda Howard/Jones with some RIB and the writers of Glee mixed in.

A/N: Sorry for some of the racism and ignorance in this and the previous chapter. None of this is a reflection on the Glee character names that these people have. Some were chosen for looks, some were chosen because I am lazy, and I don't like having to look up irrelevant Glee characters like I did for Herb Duncan.

We are going to meet another Tennessee traumatized hillbilly in this chapter. These people are acting out in ignorance and stress and know no better because of staying with their own kind, so their exposure to others is limited, and therefore their prejudice is ingrained. This in no way excuse their behavior be it drugs or self-isolation, xenophobia and racism are taught and just as they are taught they can be untaught. Bear with me, it will get better...somewhat...these people have to be this way for Cedes's extreme character development prompting her bursting completely out of her bubble...After the day she has, she will not have a problem going after who or what she wants until...you will have to read the next chapter to find out. It will be much longer than this filler one. Thanks for reading and sticking with this; I know it gets dark but that is my headspace now. Maybe one day soon I will be about fluffiness, rainbows, and whiskers on kittens.

Chapter Thirteen

Cedes was still thinking about Lawrence Nelson and whether she had either met him or heard his name when she left her store. Mike had said goodbye and headed off, and she turned to lock the door—not that there was anything to steal inside, but she still didn't want the building vandalized by kids, strangers passing through, or . . . or anyone. People were people, they did stupid things, and the world they were living in was filled with stressed out unpredictable people.

She hadn't gone ten steps before a large woman with red hair and three-inch-long dark roots charged up to her and snapped, "So you've been sitting on this gasoline for two whole months when people could have used it?"

Oh hell to the no!

She didn't know the woman; she took a step back because the woman looked ready to swing, and she didn't want to get into a fight with someone twice her size. "I thought that it would be more useful now, when the weather is getting cold," she said as evenly as possible, trying to hide how angry she was getting.

"Who gave you the right to decide what and when people need things?"

Cedes felt her blood pressure began to rise and her skin felt too tight on her body. Slowly she took the pen out of her pocket, opened up her notebook. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"Lauren Zizes," the woman answered, suspicion mixing with the aggression in her expression as she looked at the notebook. "Why do you need to know my name?"

Cedes made a show of flipping back through the notebook, though she already knew for certain she'd never seen the name before. Nope, no mention of Lauren Zizes, or indeed any Zizes, anywhere in the book. She went back to the original page and wrote Lauren's name down. "Just checking."

"Checking on what? And what does that have to do with you hogging all this gas?"

Other people were looking their way, edging closer. Cedes would have been embarrassed, if she hadn't been completely fed up. And Lauren Zizes had just gotten on her last nerve. "I was looking to see if your name was on any of the volunteers' lists."

Her retort hit its target and the woman flushed. "I have two little sisters that I am taking care of," she said resentfully. "I can't just walk away and leave them alone, to do good deeds."

"You could bring them with you to volunteer. Or send word of something you could do."

"I got all I can handle, bitch, and what does that have to do with the gasoline? Answer me that!"

A hot surge of anger left her almost breathless. She was so seldom angry that she didn't know what to do, but her brain kind of disconnected and her body reacted. Cedes took a step forward, erasing the distance she'd put between them, and raised her chin to stare at the woman. "You mean my gasoline, the gasoline I bought and paid for, and you haven't? That gasoline? The gasoline I could have sold when we got the warning about the solar storm, but didn't because I thought the people in this community would need it to help survive the winter?"

Someone in the crowd muttered, "You go, girl, tell her off."

Cedes didn't think she had a choice about going on, because she'd never felt this angry, this outraged. Surrendering to the moment she stepped even closer, so close she could smell the sourness of the woman's skin, the stench of her clothes. Every muscle in her body was trembling, but it wasn't from fear, or stress, it was from the effort of holding herself in check. She wanted to punch this woman in the face. "Are you planning on being in line tomorrow morning to get my gas, after insulting me today?"

To her surprise, Lauren Zizes stepped back. "I deserve it as much as anyone else," she muttered resentfully.

"Really?" Cedes moved forward again, all but spitting the words out. "Do you deserve it as much as the people who've been working their asses off cutting wood for others? Staying awake at night, patrolling, trying to keep everyone safe? Feeding old people who don't have enough food? What have you contributed to our community? Anything? Any little thing? Bitching doesn't count."

A couple of snorts of laughter made Lauren turn red. "I don't have to take this shit," she snarled, taking two steps back this time.

"That's right, you don't. You don't have to take my gasoline, either. Feel free to leave at any time."

"Don't think I'll forget this, you uppity bitch!" Lauren threw over her shoulder as she stomped away.

"Thanks for the warning!" Breathing hard, Cedes stared after her, then growled a bit and said, "Shit!" under her breath. Before Lauren got out of hearing she called out, "Lauren!"

The woman whirled. "What do you want bitch!"

Cedes ground her teeth together again, reaching for her thin store of patience. "Bring your car tomorrow. And bring your sisters. I won't stop you from getting gas." Not if she did have two little sisters that is. No kids, no gas.

Lauren paused, still looking violently resentful and sulky. Then she said, "What about filling a gas can?"

"That, too, if you have one."

With a jerky nod, the woman walked away.

"Oh, dear Lord Jesus," Cedes said, and closed her eyes. She was trembling and breathing hard and for some reason felt torn between wanting to cry and wanting to hop up and down from being saved from brawling in the streets; She couldn't believe that she, an introverted panic attacks sufferer from anxieties and insecurities, had been ready to get into a face-slapping, hair-pulling battle with a woman who outweighed her by a good forty or fifty pounds.

Emma Pillsbury, one of her neighbors, home school teachers, and unofficial librarian, came and put an arm around her. "You did so good, honey," she said, giving Cedes a hug and a smile. "You gave me a smile today; the first real one I have had in awhile.."

Cedes was astonished. "You out of all people, like seeing fights?"

"Well, usually no, but to see you ready to take that bully to the carpet after having to deal with Herb, without TV, that was the most entertaining thing I have seen in a long while," Emma said giggling. Several other people around them laughed and nodded.

"Besides, you have to stand up to bullies or they just get worse." Emma squeezed her shoulders. "You should go take a nap, you look worn out. I bet you stayed up with Roz all last night, didn't you?"

Cedes nodded. "And I need to get back to check on her. Not that Carmen and Bree aren't there, but—"

"I know. Roz can be a handful. Tell you what—I'll come stay with her tonight, let you get some rest. How does that sound?"

She opened her mouth to tell Emma that she could handle it, then paused. Good neighbors helped each other out, and truth to tell she could use more sleep than she'd gotten the night before, or she wouldn't be of any use to Roz or anyone else. "That sounds wonderful," she admitted.

"It's a deal. I'll come over tonight after I get the supper dishes washed and everything squared away. I will see you then."

Other people wanted to give her encouraging words or pats and she worked her way through them, wanting nothing more than to be alone so she could scream, or cry, or jump up and down in a hissy fit. She didn't know which. Maybe all three. "I'm not good at this crap," she muttered under her breath as she walked home. "I'm so not good at this crap."

She walked past Roz's house, though she knew they'd be waiting to hear the details of everything that had happened; she didn't feel like rehashing it all, and more than anything she wanted to go to bed, pull the covers over her head, and take a long nap. She wouldn't do that, but she desperately needed to be alone and get her emotions under control.

Dead leaves crunched under her feet as she walked. Now that there was no vehicular traffic to blow them off, leaves accumulated on the roads, and had almost completely covered the paved surfaces in her neighborhood. When the CME hit, civilization had slipped backward about two hundred years; she had coped, she had thought and planned and tried to organize, and although she'd accomplished some things at the end of the day, she was acutely aware of how much she fell short.

Mike Chang was a rock, but he wasn't a leader. He would back her up any way she needed, when what she needed was someone who could help her decide which way to go. Same with Brett Bukowski, capable, but also a follower. Roz had taken the job, but she didn't want it any more than Cedes did, and now that she was injured she couldn't help.

She let herself into her house, put some wood on the fire, then wrapped herself in a quilt and plopped down on the sofa, her tired head spinning.

The house was chilly and quiet. One would think she'd have grown accustomed to the silence since the CME, grown accustomed to the darkness as well. But she felt as if her warm house was now a cold, dank, and dark cave. What was happening in the world was a nightmare and what was starting to happen here, quite scary. Case in point, what had happened at the Carlisles wouldn't be an isolated case. More outsiders would be coming through. She'd been naïve to think she could handle this, even temporarily. Actually she hadn't thought she could at all; Roz had. And Roz likely wouldn't know what to do, either, because this was as far outside her experience as it was Cedes's. She couldn't even ask her aunt about this new development, not now. Roz needed to rest, to recover, not to mention that any advice she gave while she was taking pain pills might not be well thought out.

Roz. Jim Carlisle. Herb's hostility. Being accosted by Lauren Zizes. It was too much, too much all at once.

In all her life, she'd never asked for help, at least not in anything big. Never. Maybe she was too quiet, maybe she was painfully shy, but she took care of her own problems. Anthony. Her parents' deaths. Her store. Even Roz didn't know that early on Cedes had had to take out a loan, after a few bad months at the store. She'd paid the loan back, had scraped and done without until she'd managed to pay it off early. There hadn't been any other financial troubles since then, but no one else knew how she'd initially struggled. They assumed she had used her inheritance from her parents' deaths to pay for it all.

Her parents had used most of their money to retire in Florida, and their hospital bills had been astronomical. By the time she had paid everything off, Anthony had cancelled their engagement, and she had to pay for a wedding gown she never wore, and lost deposits on caterers, florists, and money that was spent on invitations. She didn't have a home to move back to. She ended up back in Tennessee because it was home, and she could afford to buy her home and a business, so that she could have a job.

After buying her home and stocking Cedes' Place, she didn't have any money leftover. She was heartbroken and mourning and a complete mess. Too scared to try something new. She was a hot mess and being in the little town allowed her to curl up into herself and not force her to leave the cocoon of comfort that she had established just so she could survive. When she realized that she should not have bought her home and business outright but had gotten a mortgage and business loan, it was way too late. Faced with almost being bankrupt, she researched and found out about small business loans and was able to diversify her money, paying herself with savings, and paying off her loan in little or no time. But the stress of it all had caused her to continue be depressed.

She'd never gone for counseling, never poured out her heart to Roz or to her best friends, Quinn and Tesla. She'd borne her hurts, her fears, in silence, rather than burden others with what she considered her failings.

But this was something she couldn't handle on her own, and others would suffer, if she did it wrong. This time, she had to ask for help. And she knew only one person who had the experience to help her with the outside threat that had come to the community. And she had to put on her big girl panties and confront the man in his mountain lair.