Nothing is more noble, nothing more venerable than loyalty. ~Cicero
★

Thelma Louise darted through a back alley. She leaped over fallen trash cans and hastily discarded planks of wood gracefully. Thank God for dance training. It was a good thing she was still in shape. Otherwise, she wouldn't have gotten this far; especially with a heavy overnight bag slung over her shoulder and a bleeding leg. Fucking window pin.

Thelma ducked into a crowded subway entrance tunnel. She was immediately hit by a wave of heat and a plethora of body odours. Cheap perfume, antiseptic, sweat, urine, fried chicken. You name it. If you wanted to find the scum of the earth, you just had to go to the subway at one in the morning and voila.

Thelma hid behind a vending machine that had been declared OUT OF SERVICE. Thelma doubted that the vending machine would ever be in service again. She surreptitiously checked her surroundings for the cop who had been chasing after her. No cop in sight. Perfect.

The cop had been stupid to think that Thelma was stupid. Thelma couldn't blame him, though. It was the Boston Police Department's fault. It should have invested more money in disguises for their plain clothes officers. How was a big wig and a messy fake moustache supposed to fool someone who worked in the entertainment industry?

The thing with disguises is that you had to do it just right. Not too drastic and not too mild. Not too flamboyant and not too bland. Most people made the mistake of using flamboyant disguises. They thought that if they dyed their hair an awful color like purple, it worked as a disguise. It didn't. That only helped in painting a target on your head. Disguises should help you blend in not draw attention to you. Take a chameleon for example. It changes colour to fit it's surroundings. This was why it was named the master of camouflage.

Speaking of disguises, Thelma would need one if she was going to leave this country. She would go some place with no extradition treaty with the United States. Some place like China. Nope, too crowded. United Arab Emirates was the best option as of now. Thelma knew that she could rock a hijab. Maybe she would even meet one of those cute Moslem hunks on Instagram.

Thelma entered the women's restroom. She checked all the stalls. Empty. Perfect. She jammed the lock with her shoe and hopped towards the filthy mirror. No way she was stepping on the floor with her bare feet. It looked......alive.

First, she had to figure out what to do with her hair. Her beautiful black hair. Thelma gulped and took out a pair of scissors from her overnight bag. She hacked off her hair mercilessly. She knew if she stopped, she wouldn't be able to finish the task. When she was done, she collected all her hair and stuffed it in her overnight bag. She couldn't leave her DNA lying around. A criminal couldn't take chances. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and her eyes stung. Her hair was gone. Now, she looked like the product of a threesome comprising a tomboy, a prostitute and a clown. Atleast no one would recognize her.

Next, was the makeup. Thelma fished out her makeup kit and liberally applied eye shadow and lipstick to her eyes and lips respectively. She made sure to add concealer over the contusion on the side of her head; courtesy of Lindsay. Thelma couldn't have people stopping to inquire about her injured head, then recognizing her face from the news.

Thelma gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Perfect. Atleast now, she only looked like your everyday prostitute. With too much make-up and too little self respect.

Someone tried to push open the door and then figured out it was jammed and began to curse loudly. The intruder was slurring their words. Great. A fucking drunk. Thelma slipped on a hoodie, yanked her shoe from the door handle and was immediately pushed to the floor by the drunk. Thelma's ass connected with the semi wet floor. Shit. This night was going fan-fucking-tastically.

This was all fucking Harleigh's fault. Everyone was so concerned about fucking Harleigh because she was so damn beautiful. With her fucking burgundy hair and lithe body.

Ever since Harleigh had gotten the damn idea into her head of auditioning at the community center, Thelma had faded into the background. She was no longer in the limelight. She was just a prop to be used and thrown away.

Thelma had thought that after Harleigh's disappearance, she would get back into the limelight. She had been wrong. The trainer at the community center had only started comparing her with Harleigh. She was either too stiff, too tall or too slow. He had even dared to call Thelma fat. The same Thelma who had turned vegetarian for the sake of dancing. Frankly speaking, Thelma was tired of hearing Harleigh's name. In the community center, on the news and even in her nightmares.

Thelma took too long to get up and now the drunk, who had pushed her onto the floor, was staring at her with hooded red rimmed eyes.

"Hey momma this ain't a dressing room." She pronounced the 'momma' like a true African American woman.

As if Thelma didn't know that. She nodded and got up, pulling the hood over her eyes. Thelma didn't want the woman to suddenly recognize her from the BOLO posters being circulated around the state. Fucking cops.

Thelma exited the restroom and everything stopped. Everything except her erratic heart rate.

What the fuck was Lindsay doing here?

Lindsay was standing at the only other exit. She was handing out posters that probably had a very unflattering picture of Thelma and Thelma's name printed below in bold letters. Lindsay was a fucking predator. Stalking her prey. And Thelma was her prey.

Thelma contemplated running back to where she had come from. But then she would run into the other cop again. Thelma was trapped. And when animals were trapped, they entered fight mode. No, she shouldn't be scared. If she got spooked now, her disguise would be pointless.

Thelma walked towards the exit. She could clearly hear Lindsay speaking to people who were more concerned with getting home than finding a missing woman. Thelma stuffed her hands in the pockets of her hoodie so that she could hide the fact that they were shaking.

Lindsay got hold of Thelma's shoulder and her brain hotwired. Thelma had been caught. It was a wrap. She was going to prison. Thelma's breathing started to return to normal when instead of calling the police, Lindsay pushed a poster into her hand. Oh right. She was wearing a disguise.

"This woman is a person of interest in my daughter's murder. She is believed to have important information that could lead to the apprehension of the person who tortured her. If you have any information on this woman, please call the numbers on the poster." Lindsay stared at her with tear filled eyes.

Thelma almost scoffed. Lindsay was playing the grieving parent card. All she was missing was the black dress and shades. To some extent, Thelma understood that Lindsay was trying to keep her daughter's face in the news. Because the great city of Boston was largely individualistic. People only cared about your situation if it impacted them in some way. Before, people were only worried about Harleigh's disappearance because they were scared that they would be the next target. Now that Harleigh was dead, she would be old news in a matter of weeks. If she was lucky, she would make it to a month and then another woman would go missing and nobody would remember Harleigh.

Thelma liked the sound of that.

Thelma crumpled the poster and threw it on the pavement. Take that environment. She was already considered a person of interest in a murder. What was one more littering charge?

Her burner phone rang. It was him. She let the phone ring two more times before she picked up.

"Hello?"

"The police are looking for you." He stated.

"No, shit Sherlock. Do you forget that they are looking for you too?" Thelma replied.

He laughed, "There's a big difference. They only know my name –my old name. None of them know what I look like. Can't say the same for you. Your face and name are on more than one thousand posters that are currently being distributed across the city."

Thelma rolled her eyes. "But you know what happens if-"

"Are you threatening me, Thelma?" His voice held a hidden warning.

"No, uncle Matthias." Thelma's eyes dropped to the floor.

"Don't call me that. I'm not your fucking uncle." He snapped. Thelma's eyes welled with tears.

"I'm sorry." She wiped a tear that streaked down her face.

"That's more like it." He cleared his throat. "Do you see the truck to your left? There are two men loading crates onto the truck. Go to the driver and say that I sent you. He will give you an empty crate. Crawl into the crate and wait for me to come pick you. Understood?"

Thelma was certain that her blood pressure was through the roof. How did he know where she was? She hadn't told anyone her whereabouts.

"Are you tracking me?"

"What do you think?" He snarled and hung up.

Thelma walked up to the driver and crawled into the crate he provided. She was too scared to do otherwise.

Ten minutes later, she was strapped into the passenger seat of his car; eating a much needed hotdog. Matthias was whistling along to a song on the radio. She didn't want to stare at him for too long but she just couldn't not do that. How could a cold blooded killer look so.... normal?

He caught her staring and smirked. "You know I have a wife and a son?"

"I wasn't admiring you or anything like that. I was just wondering how you can kill and torture so many people and still look so normal?"

"Honey, its all part of the charm." He drawled.

"Did you feel anything when you killed your grandmother?"

An emotion passed over his face. Thelma couldn't discern which one it was exactly because it disappeared instantaneously. She had gotten too personal.

A muscle in his jaw spasmed as he drove on in silence. After a few minutes, he abruptly hit the brakes. They were in an area surrounded by miles of forest. Once again, Thelma's brain hotwired.

"Get out!" He ordered.

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I didn't mean what I said."

He looked at her like she was stupid, "You think I am going to kill you? I'm not that cold blooded. I made a promise to your biological parents that I would take care of you and fullfil all your needs. I am not going back on my word. Your parents were my only true friends. They were my family."

Then why did you take me to foster care? Thelma almost blurted out. "Then why are we walking through the forest?" Thelma asked instead.

"For God's sake Thelma. I have another car on the other side of the forest. With the police, you can never be too careful" He pointed to the forest. "Ladies first."

She walked. He followed. They had gone a short distance into the forest when something caught her eye. Light reflecting off metal.

Thelma tried to turn and was stopped by the pressure of a cool blade against her neck. The knife dug into her skin, drawing a line of blood. He leaned down and whispered into her ear, "Run!"

God no. This couldn't be happening to her. "B-but you p-p-promised."

"Did I? I remember no such thing."

"Is it because of what I said? I said I am sorry."

His laugh echoed through the forest. "You really are dumb, aren't you? It's not because of that. You were doomed to die the moment you agreed to hand over your friend to me. There is this thing called loyalty. Very precious in the world of criminals. You don't have any loyalties. You only care about yourself and what benefits you. In a way, you are more dangerous than me because a person who cannot even be loyal to their so called best friend can never be loyal to anyone else." He air quoted the word best friend.

"You want to know why everyone liked Harleigh? Why everyone chose Harleigh over you? It was not only because of her beauty but also because she was loyal. I bet if I had asked her to betray you, she would have refused. Did you know that she refused to give up the names of her friends even when I tortured her? Did you also know that she refused to believe that you, her best friend, had a hand in her abduction? Right until the very end, Harleigh was a much better person than you."

He had also been infected with the Harleigh virus. He was beyond saving.

"You loved her, didn't you?" Thelma screamed.

He groped his chin. "Love is a strong word. I would say that she was the best in the batch." Thelma looked at him like he had grown two heads. "You know one problem that you have? You suffer from a disease. Not a disease. A plague called jealousy. You are so jealous of your friend that it's eating you up from the inside."

Thelma tried a different tactic. "What about your promise to my parents?" His nostrils flared and she wished that she could retract her words.

"See? This is exactly what I am talking about. You are always looking for what benefits you. A normal person would be pleading for their life. You, on the other hand, want to make a deal with me. To answer your question, I remember the promise I made to your biological parents. I promised to keep you happy and fulfill all your needs. And what you need right now are your parents. So I shall send you to them. Send my regards."

Matthias leaned down again and whispered, "Run!"

And Thelma ran.

★★★

I don't know about you all but Thelma deserved to die but to a certain small extent, I relate with Thelma. Especially on the jealousy bit. Anyway that's enough about me. Tell me your views.

Please vote. Pretty please with a cherry on top.