Marionette (A 'The 5th Wave' Fanfiction) [COMPLETED] #wattys2017

33. Killer; Chapter III.

    I seek out Flintstone first chance I get the next morning. It's not that hard. He's usually alone anyway.

    So I simply waited in a small gap between two barracks. He comes around pretty quickly. I yank him back by his jacket and throw him behind me with a rifle pointed directly at his face.

    "Say one word and I'll kill you," I threaten through gritted teeth.

    Flintstone shoots me a mean glare. "What do you want?" he says despite my warning.

    I pretend not to be moved in any way. "Did you know Slingshot?"

    Flintstone looks surprised. "The nut-job from Squad 22?" I growl. "Oh, that's right. Your squad. How are they? I see your catching on the insanity yourself."

    I resist the urge to fire a bullet right between his eyes. "Slim it and answer the question," I push.

    "Nope. No idea who he is." He raises a brow at me. "Was," he corrects himself.

    The rifle cracks. I think I might be breaking the handle. Just a little. "Where were you that morning when Slingshot was killed?" I question further. My temper's ticking to an end and even I'm not sure what happens next.

    He shrugs. "How am I supposed to remember? Probably helping set up a course."

    My eyes narrow. "How do you know what morning I'm talking about?"

    For a split second -I swear- I saw fear in his eyes. Was it really Flintstone that killed Slingshot?

    Flintstone quickly collects himself. "Gossip. Everyone was talking about it."

    "Why didn't I hear of it, then?"

    "Because you're a psychopath!" Flintstone spits, pointing at the rifle. "Everyone is terrified of you! What moron would have the guts to walk up to you and actually interrogate with you? You're mad, Marionette. The only one who can't see it is that son of a bitch Zombie." I load my gun. Flintstone lets out a bark of a laugh. "You can't kill me! I didn't do anything wrong. You have no evidence on me! Just coincidences. I hate you to fucking pieces, you freak. But if I killed somebody in this whole pissing camp, it would be you!" He proceeds to laugh maniacally. I question his sanity.

    Apart from the weirdness, he's right. He is an asshole but if he really wanted to get rid of me, he wouldn't use anybody else to do it. Not even someone he doesn't know, thus easing the guilt.

    I aim my rifle downwards. Who cares what'll happen to me? "Why are you laughing?" I ask, bugged.

    He gets up from the ground. "It's just so obvious! You're dumber than I thought and that's saying something."

    Before I can ask what he means he shoves past me and jogs away. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

    If Flintstone didn't kill Xander, who did?