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. This is another little chapter with three more to go. To all those who take the time to react to these chapter know that you are the highlight of my day. If you need a rotfl moment read krazykay23 and whoknowstv's latest reviews. For those of you who have reviewed and continue to make me laugh, aww, and smile all of the Guests, Emma, Beachgirl25, jacquelinehogan922, DamnGina17, Mowatts87, Bmarie90, Angelswings123, monni2215, myhiggins25, and anybody I left out, thanks for clicking on the updates and know that I know this is an unusual 25 days of Christmas read, but I promise a little more romance in the next chapter. I dedicate the next chapter to you guys. This chapter is just for your information. And lets you know Cedes still doesn't like Herb just like all of you LOL.

Chapter Twenty-Two

After Herb dropped Bailey at Roz Washington's house, he drove slowly down McKinley Road. He wasn't in a hurry to get where he was going, and the patches of snow gave him a reason to creep along. He dreaded what he had to do. He didn't have a choice, but still, basically admitting to Mike Chang that he'd been a fool wasn't going to be easy.

Finding the Chang house was easy: Mike's truck, the one he'd been driving the day Herb had stopped him on the road, was parked in the driveway.

Herb pulled to the curb, turned off the engine, and sat for a moment, looking around and postponing the inevitable. The Chang house was a large, simply designed blue-gray stone ranch-style with a nice-sized front porch. There were two rocking chairs on that porch, arranged on either side of a small table with a clay pot and a dead plant sitting on it. In better times, that plant would be well tended. There might be cups of coffee or iced tea, sitting on that table. These were not better times.

The dusting of snow on the ground kind of made him homesick for Ohio, though he was glad he was here and not there. There wasn't enough snow for snowmen, but likely more than a few snowballs would be thrown. The little bit of snow that had fallen was pretty, though. He always looked forward to coming here in the winter, and often hoped to be snowed in.

It snowed plenty in Ohio, but it was never as pretty as it was here, in the mountains and in the hills and valleys.

He knew what he had to do, but that didn't make it any less embarrassing. Maybe in the past couple of months he'd pushed too hard, at times—in the name of survival, in an effort to make sure he and Bailey made it through this crisis. His frustration had gotten the best of him more than once, but his intentions had always been good.

The road to hell . . . Yeah. Exactly.

Herb took a deep breath and opened the car door. This wasn't going to get any easier while he sat, so he might as well get it over with. Damn it, not everything he'd done had been wrong! Still, the mistake he'd made—trusting someone like Lawrence—was an extreme one.

Mike opened his front door and came out on the porch when Herb was halfway across the yard. The expression on the doctor's face was one of thinly veiled annoyance, likely because of the altercation with Cedes Jones yesterday. Herb imagined she'd have to commit murder or something like that before any of the residents would take his side over hers. Mike likely expected him to raise hell and cause trouble—and trouble was exactly what Herb was bringing, just not the way Mike expected.

"Chang," Herb said in a way of greeting, as he walked up the porch steps.

"Duncan," Mike responded.

Herb stopped a couple of feet from the door, planting his feet and steeling his resolve. He didn't much like eating crow. "I have some important information, and I wasn't sure who to take it to."

Mike's eyebrows lifted slightly. "And I won?"

It was tempting to give up here and now, to turn around and walk away. He and Bailey could hole up in their house for a while, if they had to. He didn't have to participate in the community patrol or in Lawrence's less-than-moral attempts at forming a coup. There were lots of folks in the area, and elsewhere, who kept to themselves and focused on one thing: getting by. He could do the same.

But it was too late for that. If Lawrence and his gang of meth heads had their way, no one in the community would be safe.

Herb sighed and met Mike's gaze. "We have a huge problem."

It was already the middle of the morning, and Sam was still there snuggling with her on her couch. Cedes was beginning to feel guilty for not getting something done, but just sitting in front of the fire with him and talking was so deeply satisfying she couldn't make herself call a halt to it. Not that he was a chatterbox—anything he said was said with a purpose, and he was as efficient in his use of words as if he had a set allotment for each day and didn't want to use them all up. She didn't care. He could be completely silent if he wanted, and she'd still be happy simply being with him.

Reality said they would soon have to leave the house, though; Carmen and Bree could probably use a break from Roz duty, and Sam would have things to do with the community patrol—and he had his own place to see to, his own chores. She didn't ask, but she imagined he might go by the Carlisles' to take them more food and check on the dog.

To hang on to the last minute, though, she made more hot chocolate for them and they settled on the couch with their mugs. As she sipped she had the sudden odd feeling that she might never sit here again, that she was a stranger in her own home. Her life had changed, shifted; she didn't know what was coming, only that things were different now. She had changed. More than anything she hoped that Sam would be a part of that difference—

Her thoughts were interrupted by footsteps on the back deck. The curtains had all been pulled closed to help keep out the cold, so she couldn't see who the visitor was. Sam was on his feet and her .22 rifle, which she had stood in a corner, was in his hand before she could push back her chair.

There was a knock on the door and a woman's voice called, "Cedes! Mercedes Jones!"

Cedes pushed the edge of the curtain aside and peeked out. "It's Mike's wife," she said to Sam, and opened the door. "Tina, is anything wrong?"

Tina took a half step inside, spotted Sam with the rifle in his hand. She halted, surprise widening her eyes. "Ah . . . yes, but no one's sick or hurt. Herb Duncan showed up a few minutes ago and Mike wants you to come hear what he has to say. It's important, he said. I can't tell you more, because I was busy in the back and didn't overhear what they were talking about."

Cedes bit back a groan. She didn't want to deal with Herb, particularly now. She wanted to be alone with Sam, to explore this thing between them; she was happy and content, in a world that was increasingly dangerous and happiness could be precarious and rare. Just thinking about Herb could ruin her mood. The worst of it was, she felt guilty for giving him the finger.

Likely he'd gone to Mike to complain about her behavior. Maybe he was trying to file an official complaint, though the idea of anything "official" these days was ludicrous. What sort of violation would he be thinking of? "Conduct unbecoming of a community leader," she supposed, and at this point, she could only hope that she'd be found guilty and forcibly removed from her volunteer position. There was always so much to be done, and now she had Sam and while she didn't know for sure where this was going he would definitely require some time and commitment, which she was more than happy to give. She was not only willing but anxious to step aside.

If, that is, there was someone competent to step into her shoes. That wasn't Herb Duncan, and Roz was far from ready to jump back in.

She supposed she'd have to face the music and any other cliché she could think of.

"Let's go," Sam said, reaching for their coats. She noticed that he kept the rifle in his hand. "We'll take my truck."

"Through the back is quicker," Cedes said, and they went out the deck door with Tina. The route took them through the backyards of their neighbors, none of whom seemed to be watching because no one hailed them as they walked past. When they reached the Chang house, they went up the steps of a deck Mike had someone build for him just last year, to the Chang back door, similar to the way Cedes's back deck was situated. Sam held her rifle in one hand and her arm with the other, making sure she didn't slip on the thin layer of snow, which was melting and turning slick. She loved the feel of that big rough hand, the strength with which he safeguarded her. Glancing quickly at his expression, which was set and cold, she realized that he, too, expected trouble from Herb, and from the way he looked he was ready to handle it so she wouldn't have to.

If Herb had any sense, he'd take one look at Sam and keep his mouth shut.

Tina opened the door and led them inside. The situation Cedes had been imagining wasn't anything like what they found. Instead of an angry Herb and an exasperated and annoyed Mike, what she saw when they walked into the kitchen was the two men sitting at the table over cups of what looked to be weak coffee. Like Tina, they were surprised to see Sam with her, but that didn't last long. They had other things on their minds.

"Herb has some important information," Mike said, indicating they take the empty chairs. The table sat six, so there was room for Tina, too. She took the seat next to Herb, while Cedes and Sam sat on the other side of the table facing them.

"What is it?" she asked Herb, her concern evident. Whatever had happened, this wasn't about yesterday. As much as he disliked them, it had to be serious for him to come to them like this.

Herb didn't look at her. He shook his head a little, then looked at Mike. "You tell them."

"All right. Seems as if Lawrence Nelson went to Herb with a bullcrap story about setting up an alternate community patrol because they didn't like the way things are being done. I guess that's to be expected, nothing is ever going to make everybody happy. But they met yesterday, and Herb noticed some things."

Mike ran through it all, the guy who seemed to be wounded and was limping, what might have been a bullet hole in a bumper, the fact that none of them seemed to be upstanding citizens, and—most important—what Nelson seemed to want most of all was for Herb to spy on the community patrol, find out what and where their pain medicines were, and keep him informed of what was going on.

Sam's expression went even colder at Herb's assessment that one of the men had been wounded. "Do you have names?" he asked Herb in a soft tone that raised the hairs on the back of Cedes's neck.

Herb still didn't look at them, but he efficiently recited six names. She had never seen the normally belligerent man like this. If anything, he seemed embarrassed, though she couldn't think why. Because he'd been interested in an alternate community patrol? She'd have been surprised if he hadn't been.

Six names. That couldn't be a coincidence, that six men had tried to steal her gas and had shot at her and Bree, and now six wanted Herb to spy for them.

"Paul and Brett checked out Lawrence's neighborhood yesterday afternoon and didn't find any damaged vehicles," Sam said, "and Carl and Dave checked out a nearby neighborhood where Cooter lives. They were both at the top of the list of likely suspects, but I expect even addicts are smart enough to hide any vehicles with bullet holes in them. If you hadn't been alerted, we still wouldn't know. What was your assessment, Herb?"

He'd read Herb the same way she had, Cedes realized, but he'd led men before and knew the approach to take to help Herb through any awkwardness he felt. They needed to work together now.

Until yesterday, Sam hadn't known any of the community patrol volunteers, but he'd quickly judged those he deemed most competent, as well as those who could be labeled as little more than warm bodies. This was his military experience, allowing him to size people up and make the most of what they could offer. Sure enough, Herb straightened, and for the first time looked at them.

"Cooter didn't seem to be smart," he said. "And he was at least halfway drunk, even that early in the day. What I saw was a small bullet hole, low on the bumper. He might not have noticed, or thought it wouldn't matter since it was just his friends at the meeting. If I hadn't been looking for evidence by that point, I likely wouldn't have noticed it, either."

Cedes silently thanked God that Sam was here, because she wouldn't have known how to handle Herb. Just then, beneath the table, his hand settled on her thigh. The touch, the gesture, told her without words that for the first time in a very long time, she wasn't alone. They were an actual couple, something bigger and greater than any one person could ever be. The sex was great, but this was more than sex. She cared for Sam not just lusted after him, and it was obvious that he cared for her, too. He called her sweet and sexy. They had connected, and their connection was on a level that transcended physical pleasure, it was a soul mate connection, a link she had never expected to understand, much less experience. Until now, she thought all those romantic movies and books were lies, but now she knew it was true and there was nothing like the real thing.

She didn't have to handle the worst of this crisis on her own. For the first time in her life, she didn't have to be the strong one and shoulder the bulk of the responsibility. She wasn't alone anymore, and neither was Sam. They were a couple. She could lean on him, and he could lean on her. She trusted Sam not only with her life but also with the lives of her family and their community.

She knew there was a lot of bad blood between her and Herb. She suspected the man to be a racist and a chauvinist, but she couldn't let her feelings alienate the man from helping this solve this horrible dilemma. He'd obviously come to the same conclusion. He didn't have to be here, didn't have to share what he knew, and that meant he was a better person than she'd expected. There may be a reason that his wife fell for him and remained with him after all.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "I know you didn't have to come to us after what happened yesterday."

Herb still didn't look directly at her, but he nodded in acknowledgment. "They've planned a meeting for tomorrow afternoon, in a vacant building that used to be a craft store of some kind. Near Breadstix. Should I go? Should I stay away from them?" He shook his head. "I don't know what is the wisest thing to do."

"That's all right," Sam said, his gaze going savage. "Because I do."

They sat around the table with sheets of paper and a couple of pencils. Between Cedes, Tina, and Mike, they could locate the homes of each of the six men, which were spread out but tended to be on the opposite side of the valley. They drew rudimentary maps, listing the family members they knew of—Mike and Tina were more useful for that than Cedes was, because her introversion had kept her from getting to know as many people as they did. Herb was a help; he'd learned a lot on the community patrols. Sam had a natural aptitude for learning his environment and studying it strategically; before the solar storm he'd driven and hiked a large portion of the area. He didn't know people, but he knew the land.

"We can't hit their houses," he said, sitting back and tapping a pencil on a page. "We don't know how many women and kids are in each house, or where they'd be." These men had no care for life and would fight back, regardless of their families being present. Sam didn't want anyone shooting into houses where kids were; he didn't have qualms about the adults, but these kids already had hard lives because of who and what their parents were. Meth addicts—and Mike was certain all of these men were tied to the meth trade—lived for nothing but their next hit, and nothing meant anything to them beyond that next hit. If other people died because of their addiction, they didn't care.

Mike and Herb both nodded in agreement.

"If they all show up for the meeting at the craft store, that'll be our best chance, and will minimize any collateral damage."

"They should be there," Herb said. "According to Lawrence's plan, anyway."

Sam gave a brief nod. "A central meeting is more efficient than someone going from house to house, telling everyone what's going on."

Mike and Herb were relatively clueless on the craft store, other than knowing kind of where it was, but Tina had often bought things there and was able to sketch the floor layout, doors, windows, parking lot, and any buildings or tree stands nearby.

Sam's plan was simple, and even then he expected things to go sideways; they almost always did when guns and people were involved. Mike and Tina Cohen were tasked with visiting chosen patrol members and reading them in on the plan. Herb was to stay far away from any of the other patrol members, so they wouldn't be suspicious of him. McKinley Road was out of the way, a small neighborhood with hills and curves, and limited sight lines; the chances were small that he'd have been spotted unless someone had followed him, and he'd have noticed another vehicle on the road behind him because there was no traffic. Despite people having some gasoline now they were still in conservation mode, and driving around wasn't nearly as important as having fuel for generators.

With the plan in place, Sam and Cedes walked back to her house. The day had warmed to the point that only thin patches of snow were left, and by afternoon there would be none. "I need to go to my house, get some things," he said. "Want to come along?"

"Most definitely," she replied, no hesitation. Wherever he was, she wanted to be. "I need to check on Roz, first though. Is it okay for me to admit that I still can't stand Herb?"

"No problem. We can stop by there on the way." He glanced down at her. "You are an intelligent woman of course you still wouldn't like that man. He is a means to an end. Hopefully his intel will help up get the creeps who shot at you and Bree. But most importantly in regards to going to you aunt's home, do you think I need to put on body armor?"

Cedes laughed. Grateful that Sam had a sense of humor. They both made each other laugh. "Nope, you probably just need a chastity belt to keep her from grabbing your goodies." She couldn't stop smiling, because she loved Roz's bold personality. There was no telling what name she'd come up with for Sam today, but he hadn't blinked at White Chocolate, so she thought he could handle any other name she threw his way.

"I'll keep you between us. This time you can be my bodyguard. You definitely have the body. A gorgeous one at that." He rubbed his hands up and down her sides as he nibbled on her neck as they went up the steps to her deck, and this man and his familiar gestures didn't just warm her heart, he also melted her insides with his words and actions.

Surprisingly, when they went to aunt's home, she was on her best behavior. She beamed at them. Carmen told them about Bailey Duncan being a PTA, and helping Roz with some exercises. Roz also winked at Sam and gave him two thumbs-up, and left them to wonder exactly what she was approving of: the physical therapy, his body, or the fact that he was with Cedes.

Sam's big pickup handled the narrow mountain road without any problem, and the high suspension allowed him to drive right over the big rock in the middle of the driveway that stopped most people. She was astonished that it had been just two days since she'd walked up this steep drive, both scared and determined.

The house was cold when they went in, but of course he hadn't been here in about thirty-six hours, so the fire had gone out. He stopped just inside the door and looked around; intuitively she knew he was thinking about the dog, missing its presence. He'd done a good thing for the Carlisles, giving the dog to them, but at a cost to himself. He didn't say anything about it, though, just efficiently got a fire going in the woodstove. His house wasn't as cold as hers would have been after that length of time without a fire, making her think he'd had a lot of insulation.

There was a small fireplace in his bedroom, and she wouldn't be surprised if the other bedrooms also had fireplaces. If she remembered correctly, Roz had once mentioned that this cabin had been for a family, which meant bedroom fireplaces were likely. He lit the fire in his bedroom, and also lit a kerosene heater to help warm the house faster.

He didn't wait until the house was warm, though, to start stripping off his clothes. "I need a shower." He looked at her and one of those slow smiles curved his mouth. "Want to shower with me?"

She did, and half an hour later after amazing shower sex in which she and Sam took turns and washing each other after, he had just three condoms left.

Of course the bandage on his shoulder got wet so she rebandaged that, this time with more of the butterfly bandages though it wasn't needed the glue had held and the wound was healing nicely. He had went outside to bring in more wood as she brushed her hair dry, it had gotten a little wet in the shower. Unlike Sam, she didn't need to wash her hair as often. But she knew that it would tangle if she left it damp and uncombed. So, she bent over in front of the fireplace to dry it, as he had just come into the bedroom to add more wood to the fire. When she had just finished braiding her hair in a crown around her head, they heard the ham radio set in the bedroom crackled to life and a man's voice recited a series of letters and numbers.

Sam was at the radio almost before she had isolated the direction of the sound, sitting down and grabbing a microphone, reciting his own series of letters and numbers. Then he said, "Good to finally hear from you, bro."

"You too. How are things there Smokey the Bear?"

"As expected Jake from State Farm. People are coping. We've had some trouble, but it's being handled. How about you and my family in Texas?"

"We're all safe. My family is settled on a military base. In the beginning Marley and the kids had to stay at your parent's ranch until I convinced the general at the base how important I could be for the effort. But your family is doing well, and I managed to make sure they are secure. We of course are more secure near the base in military housing. We had some bad folks already doing shit even before the blackout, so I had to set your family's ranch hands up as patrol and ordered them to shoot first and don't bother asking questions."

Cedes moved closer, fascinated by news from the outside and to hear that Sam had a family in Texas. Since the last radio station in Knoxville had stopped transmitting, she had felt isolated here. Sam reached out an arm and pulled her down onto his knee, and she leaned against him.

"Any good news, or is it all bad?"

"Our military is good. They had hardened security, and SMRs. The government is functioning on a very limited basis, and only because the Pentagon was smarter than the politicians and Commander in Chief. Nothing is online, but the military bases are starting points and work is being done to rebuild America."

"How about Europe? Asia?"

"Europe is a total disaster. It is like a wasteland. Their politicians were worse than ours if you can imagine that. Japan, Korea, China—they're getting it together, but it's going to be a long, slow haul. Russia is back in medieval times, and may stay there for a hundred years. There are a few very small electrical companies here in the States that had good foresight, and they're fully functioning, but the people who live in those areas are having to fight for their lives because of all the people are moving in and trying to take what they have."

"Are there any big cities that are livable?"

"None of the big ones above the Mason-Dixon Line, that's for sure. And you can also forget all the big cities in California, except San Diego fared better than most. Atlanta and most of its suburbs, didn't make it. Nashville, Memphis, St. Louis, didn't either. I'm not sure anyone in New Orleans noticed the power went off, so I can't say about it. Those bayou folks after Katrina and all the horrible hurricanes they have, know more about survival than most do without electricity. We just haven't heard anything from the area. Up north, Omaha is better than you'd expect. Denver is trash, Colorado Springs has a major army base, so it isn't as bad. Makes sense, doesn't it?"

None of this made sense to Cedes, but she didn't interrupt and ask.

"What about the weather?"

"Nasty, even this early in the year. It looks bad, especially in the Midwest. I expect a lot of that cold air will come our way, so be prepared."

"Do you know how many casualties they are reporting?"

"Early estimates . . . the majority of Europe. Maybe two hundred million are still alive, a fourth of the population. Asia has lost at least a billion, some analysts think more. Africa, the Caribbean, and South America are doing okay, because of their warm weather, but the big cities were hard hit. Australia, New Zealand are in their warm season now, from what I hear they're growing all the food they can. Here . . . North America has lost between a fourth and a third of the population. That's just since September, a little over two months. It remains to be seen how many people survive the winter, and not just because of the weather."

Cedes could only lean her head against Sam's shoulder because she was so stricken by what this man was saying. Here they'd worked hard, they'd done without, but in comparison to what she was hearing they were among the very luckiest. Even hearing these words, she could not imagine so many deaths and probably more to come.

"You and Marley, my family, and of course your ankle-biters are welcome here, you know if it gets too dangerous or you all run out of food."

"We'll definitely come visit when things are better for safer travel. And I will extend your invitation to your family."

Mercedes couldn't remain quiet, she asked timidly, "How long do you think this will last?" There was no way she was heard because she wasn't speaking in the microphone, so Sam repeated her question to his friend.

"I'm thinking it may be a year until the grid is restored, but it's just a guess based on what I see happening on the military side. Even then, it'll take years for manufacturing to recover, for jobs to come back, fuel pipelines to be functional. Save all the seeds from your garden, bro, you're going to be growing your own food for quite a while."