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

giving them what they want to buy myself a precious moment.

Think, Mary, think!

Reach the tipping point. Then put a foot forward, sprint for the door!

Maybe I can make it before one of them can draw.

The floor keeps rising toward me, a little faster now. My toes ache from the pressure my body is exerting. Soon gravity will take hold.

Go for one of their guns? The woman, I think. She’s slight and… her hand is on the butt of the weapon. It wasn’t when Ang gave me the command, but she’s moved it there now. Am I taking too long?

The others have hands on weapons now, too. A flicker of suspicion rippling through them. Doubt entering their curious stares. I keep tilting toward the bloody patch in front of me.

Two thoughts pass through me at once.

I need to get out of this.

And…

There’s no getting out of this.

My body is betraying me, though. Or maybe gravity is. Because my controlled tilt is at the threshold now. The last possible instant where I can stop myself.

And I don’t.

I’m falling. Slow, then fast. Then too fast.

There’s no choice now. It’s going to happen. Have to sell it.

I pour every last shred of conscious effort into keeping my hands at my sides. Every instinct within me says to cushion the blow, to turn away. And I can’t. They’ll know. They’ll kill me. I keep my face forward. Hands flat on my hips. No idea how, but I do.

My toes leave the ledge. Free fall.

Don’t flinch, don’t flinch, don’t flin—

I hit the floor nose first, and for a split second, there’s only the sound of it. The crack of brittle bone, the wet slap of meat and blood. And the grunt that comes, involuntarily, from my lungs.

No pain, though. Not for that split second.

Then it arrives. Like a tidal wave. Like the sudden crack of a gunshot. Bright and searing and absolute.

Pain like fire. Lightning in the mind.

All thought blots out. Anguish instead. I scream. Then I stop. It hurts too much to scream.

Some time passes. I’ve no idea how much. I’ve curled into a ball, hands at my face but not touching my broken nose. Warm blood flows onto my palms. I’m coughing through my mouth. Tears that feel scalding hot well around my eyes.

There’s a strange noise that manages to get through all this. I try to latch on to it, desperate for anything I can mentally anchor to that isn’t the exploded star in the center of my face.

It’s a popping sound, like distant gunfire. Or champagne bottles being opened.

No, not those things. I get it now. It’s applause.

“Welcome,” Mr. Ang says, “to the Broken Nose Gang.”

Something about my nose feels strange. There’s a fuzzy sensation there, as if I’m being tickled by a feather.

This makes me want to sneeze, but I can’t seem to. My head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, like it’s been filled with something warm and numbing.

Pressure on my nose, now. Slight, then gone again, then it’s back. A probing. A blotting.

I open my eyes a little.

Doc leans over me. His hands gloved in blue latex. He holds a cotton ball in metal pincers, dabbing at my face. It comes away stained red.

“She’s waking up,” Ang observes.

“It’s okay,” Doc mumbles. “I gave her a shot of Novocain.”

“Give her more,” someone replies.

“Let me handle dosages, will you?” Doc shoots back. “All of you, relax and be happy we have a new member.”

I glance around, my eyes and my head clearing a little. The rest of the “gang” are in a circle around me, watching. Greg, Tweaker, Ang, and the rest. They look… sad, as if they’ve just witnessed an old friend fall ill.

Ang glances at the lone woman among them. “Proceed with the plan,” he orders her. “This has been a distraction, but we still must be ready.”

She glances at her watch. “They’re expecting me in half an hour, does that still work?”

Ang shakes his head. “Phone them and stall.” He jerks his chin toward me. “She won’t be a problem now, but we still have preparations to make and we’re behind schedule. None of this will matter if the demonstration does not go as planned.”

The woman frowns. “And if he decides to just cancel the order?”

“Give him a discount. Hell, tell him it’s free. He’ll wait if it’s free. Now go load the van, and be ready to leave.”

She nods firmly and disappears from view. Footsteps receding.

“And put your earpiece in!” Ang calls after her. “In fact, all of you put your earpieces in.”

The group complies, instantly. Each retrieves a small object from under their shirt collars and puts it in their right ear. The devices are attached by clear, spiral-shaped cables that disappear under their hair and shirt collars. Just like you see bodyguards wear. Or secret service agents.

“Senator,” Ang says, “you’re with me. The rest of you, go back to your duties.”

He turns and walks away. The older man with the fine silvery head of hair instantly follows.

I try to watch them go, lifting my head from the cold hardwood floor. It’s the wrong time, though, because my nose collides with Doc’s metal pincers.

Novocain or not, my world vanishes into another sizzling white agony.

“O’Doherty’s, Kyle speaking. Oh, hey, yes! Finally! Are you outside? Well fuck, where are you then? You said delivery by six p.m. No, tomorrow’s no good, the event starts tomorrow. I need the beer now. Tonight. Uh-huh. Okay. How late are we talking? I’ve got the whole committee due to arrive any minute and they’re all expecting a sample. Yeah. Okay, okay. Wait, did you say free? Seriously? That’s kick-ass. Thanks! Of course we’ll be here. For free booze? Hell yeah we’ll wait.”

The pain has become a dull throb.

I groan and try to sit,