Excerpt of "Maverick Hotel" Part 2
Spoilers are at a minimum, but assuming you haven't read Part One, here is the premise of "Maverick Hotel" again:
Set in an alternate world where the U.S. has become an ultra-religious empire, Adam Grimwald is a tabby cat rescued from a 'conversion clinic' by a group of resistance fighters. Recruiting him to their cause, Adam joins their ranks and forges friendship while trying to piece together his past.
Before posting it in its entirety though, I'm working on another (NSFW) short story set in the same universe. Keep an eye out this August or September. ;P
I could feel him against my body. His warm chest close to mine, and his claws running down my back. Something hot and wet poked at the corner of my thigh as we passionately rolled in bed. God, I could taste him already, and hear his wolfish growls echo in my ear.
Seeing his cocky smile and writhing at his tender touch, I began panting louder and louder beneath the canine, happily moaning his name to the world. "Lowell..."
I startled awake, blinking to find myself back in the hotel room. Confused at first, and still aroused from what I suddenly realized was a dream, I finally noticed my underwear was damp and sticky.
"Ugh," I moaned while sitting myself, "not again, Adam. Third time already..."
The day after I was accepted as a member, Johanna had me dress myself in a pair of casual blue jeans and a plain grey t-shirt, then gave me a cane. And let me say, walking out my room and into the stretching hallway, it felt exhilarating. No more bed sores either. After getting myself ready (as well as hiding any traces of my embarrassment from the sheets), I joined her in the hallway. Right now, she was telling me the rules as we passed by numbered rooms that gave me flashbacks to the clinic's system.
"Thanks to our tech guys, we managed to create a separate ISP network that isn't traceable on surveillance bots. How it works is too complicated to say, but if you need to catch up on some history, feel free to go to Oscar's room to borrow a laptop. Don't misuse it though, or else the otter will get mad."
"Oscar?"
"Oh yeah, Oscar is one of our hackers," she went on to explain. "He, his pals Lucius and Dana downstairs, they run our hacker central. On top of cracking firewalls and security, they like to spend time intercepting comms between police, Archangels, whoever's of interest. You already met his twin sister, Olivia, when she and Lowell broke you out."
"Can I ask where Lowell is, ma'am?" I spoke up, still uneasy on my footpaws.
"He's around, but let's not dawdle, Adam." the doe stated, then sighed. "By the way, know this is all new to you, but I would prefer you not to stare at me."
"Oh, uh, sorry..." I awkwardly averted my eyes from her. "It's just...I, uh..."
"Not every day a God-fearing Christian from Devout America sees a transwoman, do they?" she offered a serious gaze. "Don't worry about walking on eggshells. You can ask me any reasonable question, but I only have two rules: do not call me 'John', not anymore, and be respectful. Am I clear?"
"Yes, ma'am." I nodded firmly.
"Good." She tucked her hair behind her swiveling ears and pressed a button on the elevator. "Now, until you fully recover, you'll be helping Abigail Foreman with her nursing duties. She and a couple other uh... 'soldiers'...were the last of a Defiant cell in Kansas City before moving here. I've already told the staff this morning to bring some extra food to her room for you."
She noticed my alarmed look, and added, "Don't worry about it. Every employee here knows how to keep quiet. The managers here do background checks to make sure where their loyalties lie, Adam."
Joining her in the elevator, Johanna explained how originally, the Defiant were just that: a loose collection of resistance circles defiant against the Devout regime when it came to power in America. Hideouts ranged from discussions to suburban basements and even one notable instance of an abandoned priory deep in the Wisconsin wilderness. In time, with the help of contacts in the Western Republic and some financial support from the hotel's owners, these groups would eventually band together for the common goal of resisting the regime.
The Maverick Hotel & Bar was one of many hotel chains covertly a front for Defiant HQs. Eight stories with 120 different rooms. The top floor was where they kept me and the other seddies in suites, while the other nineteen active members lived on lower-floor rooms as a precaution in case of an Archangel raid. The bar and breakfast area were connected together on the ground floor, while the back kitchen utilized a private elevator whenever things were busy.
"Of course, not every hotel is like this," Johanna mentioned as we came to a random room on the second story, "but it helps to have a few in almost every state."
"You mean every...?"
"Yep," she smirked between knocks. The door, despite her older physique, smiled like a proud cub who earned a perfect score on a test. "It's taken me and others blood, sweat, tears and years to expand this much. There's even Defiant somewhere in Devout-occupied Mexico. I hear they did a number on--"
The door opened a crack to reveal an elderly rabbit peeking her muzzle out.
"Mrs. Cardinal!" she peeped.
This rabbit, though frail and very elderly, opened the door like a young woman welcoming a childhood friend. Her long, green-and-blue-speckled dress contrasted the greying white fur on her. Behind two pointed, twitching ears, a large pair of glasses obscured some of her face, but the smile on her couldn't be any brighter and more visible.
"Good morning, Abigail. How's your new room?"
"Very good, Mrs. Cardinal," Mrs. Foreman timidly smiled, "very good."
Johanna beamed as she presented me. "This is Adam. He'll be assisting you with anything needed."
"Ah," she stared curiously at me, "you're one of the seddies Macdonald likes to brag about. It's really sad about what's happening in Canada though..." the rabbit perked up and clapped her paws. "Oh well, our boys need all the help they need! Come in then, son! Come in!"
With the doe walking off, I closed the door behind me and followed the elderly rabbit inside. Everything inside seemed like my hotel room, even down to the same layout and ugly wallpaper, except for everything being neater. It'd been cleaned not too long ago.
Sitting down momentarily on the couch--also positioned the same way, facing an unused TV set beneath a hung portrait of Jesus Christ--I felt like I'd been transported to the living quarters of a classical nursing home. The scent of cleaning spray and a plug-in air freshener heightened my memories of visiting Grandma and Grandpa (Mom's side, since Dad never knew his parents) in their idyllic condo south of Milwaukee, before they each passed away.
Were they looking over me right at this minute? Could they see their 'degenerate' grandson all the way from Heaven? I wondered what they were thinking at this moment.
"Are you alright, son?" Abigail spoke up.
I blinked back, realizing there was a small tear forming in one of my eyes.
"Oh, uh...it's...nothing." I lied, "It's nothing, ma'am."
"Son, I know a liar when I see one," she scratched one of her turned ears. The golden cross adorned around her white neck shone from the nearby lamp, contrasting it and the light green uniform scrub she wore. "Do you know Proverbs 12:22?"
The Lord detests lying lips, but He delights in people who are trustworthy.
She continued without letting me recite it, "It's a sin to lie to one another, especially when I need someone trustworthy to help me out. If it's personal, fine, but don't pretend these ears don't work, sonny."
I glanced away. "Sorry, ma'am..."
"No, no, please call me Abigail," she chuckled, handing me my own green shirt, "Now if you ever need to sit down for any reason, do it, okay? It's good to get some assistance whenever I need, but I don't want you to overwork yourself, Adam. I don't want your recovery to go to waste."
I smiled assuredly, gripping the top of my cane. "Thank you, Abigail."
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