Page 77 of Haven't Killed in Years
“Everyone hates Declan, but not everyone goes super crazy on him all the time.”
Natalie hung her head.
“Sorry,” said Gwen. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that as long as you are the one getting in trouble for doing stuff to him, we can’t poison him.”
“He’s the one who does stuff to me!”
“Natalie…” Gwen exaggerated an exhale to elicit one out of Natalie. “I know Declan is the problem. Not you. That’s why we’re going to poison him. But you have to understand that it doesn’t matter what I think.”
Natalie crossed her arms, pouting, petulant. While Gwen came off well beyond her years, Natalie had a propensity for the opposite. “You said I could pick something special for my birthday.”
“And you didn’t think of anything,” Gwen was quick to point out. “This was my idea and I don’t want to be mean, but we’re going to do it my way.”
“Tomorrow?” Natalie asked, eyes wide.
Gwen smiled. “Maybe.”
- - - - -
Natalie had been thirteenfor almost two months and Gwen still hadn’t poisoned Declan. Natalie needed it to happen; she neededsomethingto happen. She was doing her best to show no reaction at all to Declan, to make herself an unlikely suspect, but it only made him target her more. He wanted a reaction and it was only a matter of time before she snapped. Gwen knew she wasn’t supposed to hold things in.Why wouldn’t Gwen just do it already?
Earlier that day, Declan had spit directly on the back of Natalie’s head. A loogie—snot she’d had to rake from her hair with her fingers. His only punishment: going to his room fifteen minutes early.
Natalie had begged Gwen to do something, but she’d said no. Again. Because he had spit on Natalie and the staff knew.So now Gwen’s excuse was because of what Declan did? Even when I didn’t react at all? How was that fair?
All Gwen said was that they couldn’t do anything reactionary. That it would be too obvious. She said the same thing she always did—We have to be smart about it—the same sentence that made Natalie feel so stupid. Gwen wouldn’t keep saying it if she thought Natalie was smart.
But Declan wasn’t tormenting Gwen. He was tormenting Natalie. Maybe it wassmartfor Gwen to wait, but every day it was gettingharder for Natalie not to react. One of these days, she was going to lose it. Then what?
So that night, while Gwen slept, Natalie slid out of her bed. She grabbed some clothes from the closet and bunched them up under the blanket. Convinced it was passable for her body, she went to Gwen’s nightstand and opened the drawer. The poison was sitting there, collected and stored by Gwen in a plastic animal crackers package. Natalie grabbed it and slipped it into her pocket. She waited to see if Gwen would wake up, but her little snores went on uninterrupted.
Natalie crept to the door and opened it a crack. She was not sneaky like Gwen. She was so nervous she would be caught. She could say she was going to the bathroom, but that would only work on their side of the floor. Once she crossed the stairwell, she would be out of excuses.
The hallway was silent and she closed the door carefully behind her. Her socks kept her footsteps faint and she hadn’t seen or heard anyone by the time she reached the bathroom—her last chance to turn around. She touched her leg—confirmation that the poison was still in her pocket. Then she was walking again.
Declan’s room was at the far end of the boys’ side. There was a small desk for an attendant between the two sections, but it was unoccupied. Gwen had told her that once the kids were asleep, the overnight crew played poker all night in the staff lounge. She didn’t know how Gwen knew that, but Gwen knew a lot of things.
Once Natalie was past the desk, she picked up her pace and was at Declan’s door in seconds. She lifted onto her tiptoes to peek through the window, laced with wire just like theirs. Declan and his roommate were both asleep. Declan was on his back, one leg out of the covers, one leg under. His roommate was buried under his blankets, looking remarkably like the clothes Natalie had left in her own bed.
She turned the handle and waited for a reaction. Nothing. Shepushed the door open and there was a creak. She paused, but neither boy moved.
What am I doing? What is Gwen going to think? I shouldn’t risk it. This is stupid. I should go back and wait for Gwen to tell me the right time.
A noise down the hall made the decision for Natalie. Someone was coming up the stairs. Natalie slipped into the room and shut the door behind her.
She leaned against the wall next to the door, holding her breath until she couldn’t anymore. Footsteps approached and she jammed her eyes closed. She couldn’t lose it. She had to control herself. She pictured Gwen in her bed—asleep and unaware of how badly Natalie was ruining everything in that moment. Natalie imagined herself back in the room, safe with Gwen. The numbness subsided, but the footsteps were closer.
Suddenly a light was shining in the window—a flashlight. First it illuminated the roommate, then Declan. Then the light was gone. That’s all it was, an attendant on rounds, doing the bare minimum.
Natalie waited until she could no longer hear footsteps, waited until she was sure it was safe to open the door. She was about to make a run for it when she noticed Declan’s water bottle on the ground, exactly what she’d been hoping would be there when she’d first climbed out of her own bed. He’d been scolded earlier that night for putting too much fruit punch powder in there, so the flavor must be strong. It was why it had to be tonight.
Natalie lowered herself to the ground and crawled toward Declan’s bed. She grabbed the bottle and unscrewed the top, bringing it to her nose. The chemical smell of “fruit” was so potent. From her pocket, she pulled out the plastic package of mouse poison and dumped it in, watching it dissolve without a trace into the bright red liquid.
Forty-Two
Natalie
Natalie tossed and turnedall night.Would Wesley know it was the soup that made him so sick? Would he suspect there was anything to it beyond a little food poisoning? What would he do about it if he did?
