A few hours later, the limo dropped Celia back at Applebee's. She debated whether to get a rideshare, but decided that, even though she might be a bit tipsy, she could handle the drive home. As the limo drove off, she realized she probably should have just had it take her home, but it was too late now.
Having to come back in the morning is a pain anyway.
Applebee's had closed, and her car sat alone in the lot. She touched the door handle, which unlocked the door. Her arms went up into the air like a touchdown signal. "How awesome is that? I love this car! I love my life! I love everyone!" She danced a jig, spinning in a circle.
Tossing her purse onto the passenger seat, Celia hopped into the car and, exercising great caution, pulled out of the lot and headed home, giddy over the sudden change in her life.
"I'm queen of the world!" she shouted to no one. Her elation made her careless. She didn't see the beat-up red Ford F-150 follow her from a distance.
With the radio cranked, she sang at the top of her voice. Every few minutes, joy punched out of her.
"Hell yeah, baby! Whew!"
She made it home without incident. Pulling into the garage driveway, she hit the button on her dash. The car was synced to the garage door—another reason to celebrate this marvelous vehicle. As the gate slid open, she let out another whoop.
Gliding into her parking spot, she honked the horn for joy. Elation filled her every pore. Grabbing her purse, she spun out of the car, hit the lock button on her fob, and executed three pirouettes in a row. She couldn't stop herself from tap dancing to the elevator. A quick ballet spin, arms over her head, made her twitter. She stopped short of the elevator and muttered, "This is fucking unbelievable!"
A laugh followed as she hit the up button on the outside casing of the elevator. She spun around again, dropping her head back and imitating Gene Kelly's famous dance move from Singin' in the Rain. Had there been a puddle, she would have been splashing.
The elevator dinged, so, with her purse slung over her shoulder, she faced the door, waiting for it to open.
She felt a presence behind her and spun around, ready to share her good news with a fellow tenant. Instead of seeing the familiar face, she saw Rod.
"Hey, Val, fuck you."
She froze. Her mind raced. Before she had the chance to move, Rod's rough hand grabbed the back of her head and forced a mask over her face. The sickly-sweet scent of gas flooded her senses, burning her throat. Her eyes went wide as she grabbed at the mask, trying to pull it away. Rod clutched her head. Holding her tight, he wrapped his arm around her head, pulling her into a suffocating headlock. Swinging her fists, she flailed at him, trying to break his grasp. Her purse went flying. Fighting as hard as she could, she managed to land a blow to his ribcage. Rod let out a deep groan. She lashed out again and caught him dead in the crotch. A pain-filled groan filled the garage. His grip loosened enough that she knocked his hands away. Dizzy and disoriented, with her eyesight dimming, she pushed him with all her remaining strength. He stumbled backward, clutching at his crotch.
The elevator door opened. Celia launched herself into it, falling to the floor. Reaching for the buttons to close the door, she pushed and pushed, but the door wouldn't close. Looking at her hand, she saw that she hadn't actually reached the panel and was just slapping the wall below the buttons. Rod recovered more quickly than he should have and lurched toward her. Before the doors began to close, he grabbed her by the leg and pulled her back into the garage.
"Noooo!" she cried. Her butt dragged across the garage concrete as she reached for anything to grab hold of.
Rod whipped her around, and she spun a few feet from him; then she rolled and popped to her feet. Wobbling as she tried to get into a defensive stance, Rod came at her head-on.
Celia swung at him again and caught him square on the jaw. She saw him stagger back. She had hurt him. She turned to run and managed two steps before she collapsed to the floor. Lightheaded and foggy, she frantically tried to crawl away.
Rod jumped on her, pinning her to the concrete floor. Twisting and turning, he managed to flip her onto her back. Rod grabbed her arms and pinned them beneath his knees. She wiggled and squirmed, her head shaking right and left, but his full body weight was on her, making it impossible to escape. She attempted to scream, but as she opened her mouth, the mask pushed against her face once again. She slipped toward unconsciousness. Even as her movements grew weaker and weaker, she struggled with all her might. She looked up and saw Rod's dead black eyes. The next moment, she was out.