Instinct by Jason Hough (best memoirs of all time TXT) 📕

just maybe, help figure out a way to undo the damage.”

Sheriff Davies leans back, contemplative. “You know, I’m not sure if you’re lucky or not.”

“How do you mean?”

“You received the version before Ang perfected his creation. If they gave you the final product, a few words from Conaty and you’d be absolutely back to normal. As it is… well…”

The sheriff holds my gaze. Understanding takes me a while.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “It can’t be undone. That’s what you’re telling me.”

“There’s talk of looking into it, but of course that’s a minefield—”

“I’m stuck this way. Maybe for good.”

“Yes,” he says, barely audible.

“Fuck.” I sigh. Somehow I knew, but to hear it from him all but crushes me. “Welcome to the new Mary.” I breathe.

The sheriff pats my hand again. The words written there. “What’s it like?” he asks.

I shrug. “Weird. Like… like your brain has a mirror in it. I don’t know. That sounds dumb, but I can’t think of how else to say it. You just… go the opposite way than you used to, without even realizing.”

Davies lowers his chin to his chest, mulling that over.

“What about Silvertown itself?” I ask.

He eyes me.

“I mean,” I add, “one of them was pouring that shit into the water supply. Is everyone… is the whole place…” I can’t quite find the words to finish the question, but James is shaking his head already.

“From what I heard, the chemical was meant to neutralize the… drug, or whatever. Before people took it, not after. Sorry.”

“Wait, did you say neutralize?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Doc had been slipping Ang’s first version to people with their prescriptions, from what we understand.”

I sit up a little. “I found proof of that,” I tell him.

His eyebrows climb. “Oh?”

“In the Mansion.”

“Which burned down.”

I shake my head. “Check my mailbox, assuming mail’s been delivered.” The whole town is probably on lockdown, I realize. “Otherwise, check the mailbox of Dr. Ryan’s neighbor.”

“I’ll be damned. Okay. Nice work.”

I ease back into the pillows, exhausted. “Who’s policing the place now, though? You? Your office?”

The sheriff shakes his head. “Feds are handling everything. In situations like this, we locals are lucky to get traffic duty.”

“The mountain must be swarming with reporters, huh? News choppers?”

“Oh, no. No way.”

It’s my turn to eye him. I open my mouth to ask why, but the answer is so obvious it hurts. “They’re going to cover it all up, aren’t they.”

“ ’Course they are, No way this gets out. I guess it’s good it happened where it did. Even if there are rumors, it will just add to the pile of tall tales already rolling down that mountain.”

“You’re more right than you know. Sandra Conaty said something similar to me.”

There’s a soft knock at the door.

Davies stands and opens it. There’s a part of me, quite a big part actually, that expects the real-world equivalent of Mulder and Scully to enter, badges flashing.

Instead, I see Clara. When our eyes meet the smile on her face is dazzling.

“You’re awake,” she says.

“Well, duh.” I laugh.

There’s a bouquet of flowers in her hands, and not from the hospital either, but Silvertown’s own little shop.

Clara enters and, a heartbeat later, Kyle’s in the doorway, too.

“I’ll leave you guys to catch up,” the sheriff says, and steps out without even giving me a chance to thank him.

Kyle waits for him to go, then turns to me. He, too, carries a gift, but it’s not flowers.

“Kenny made it just how you like,” he says, setting the pizza on the table beside me. Then he leans over and kisses my cheek, gently. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Doesn’t matter if I am,” I say through a fresh wave of grateful tears.

“Why not?”

“Silvertown police policy,” I say, gripping both their hands. “No slice left behind.”

My thanks as always to the following wonderful people: Sara Megibow, Michael Braff, Jake “OddJob” Gillen, Shelly Perron, Kate Caudill, the Wheel of Awesome, everyone at Skybound and Simon & Schuster, booksellers, librarians, and last but definitely not least, you lovely readers.

This book would not have been possible without the support of my wife and our children, who as I write this are currently upstairs doing their best to give me some peace and quiet despite it being week four of the COVID-19 lockdown.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

JASON M. HOUGH is the New York Times bestselling author of the Dire Earth Cycle and the near-future spy thriller Zero World, and is a proud member of SFWA (Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America) and ITW (International Thriller Writers). When not writing, reading, or playing with his kids, he spends his time exploring virtual reality or trying to coax his 3D printer into making something useful. He lives near Seattle, Washington, with his wife, two sons, and a dog named Missbuster.

FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR:

SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/Jason-M-Hough

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or