Like Wax Under Flame

By Alexandra Pelaez

Everyone knows the story of the apocalypse: The greedy, corrupted world governments waged war, devastated the entire planet, mutated the majority of humanity through biological weapons, and destroyed themselves in the process. The gangs took their place and the only rule of survival was to join them, or at least get on good terms with one or five. Try to survive on your own...well, the concept is nothing short of laughable.

But not to nineteen-year-old Dane. A psychic gifted with extraordinary telekinetic powers, senses, and a self-programmed drive to survive, the thought of bowing to any form of authority is less than laughable. Dane doesn’t question the story of the apocalypse, and has convinced herself that she is content to be the only one of her kind. But she is destined to pierce through the shadow of ignorance that blankets the world. People are watching her, people who want her to know that World War III was merely a smokescreen to hide another war. A war driven by prejudice and paranoia. A war that resulted in the near extinction of Dane’s people and gave birth to a savage, lawless world...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alexandra Pelaez
• Release date: Feb 10, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465871336

Alexandra Pelaez

Have been stuck in Florida for as long as I can remember, and much as I'd love to see snow sometime in the future I'm happy as can be. I'm a Liberal and Progressive, but also well aware that corruption is always inevitable in politics which explains my strong Machiavellian streak. Since I discovered my passions will always lie in the arts a few years back, I've been teaching myself how to draw and am currently training to be a concert pianist and composer. I've always loved to write, but fan fiction helped me realize my dream career. A bit about my books; The Evanescence Chronicles is a satirical joke (mostly revolving around irony) on modern day paranormal romance. Like Wax Under Flame is a short story that I'm currently developing into a series of novels. The first one is tentatively scheduled to be released in the spring of 2013. A brief warning to all: Though I include these elements with a purpose Like Wax Under Flame is my most violent, dysfunctional, perverse story yet. Even more so than my fan fiction. My favorite author will always be Matthew Stover, but like the common geek I'm a huge fan of Tolkien, Rowling, George R.R. Martin, and Orson Scott Card. My favorite show is "The Vampire Diaries" (something I never expected, really, REALLY hoping they never jump the shark), and my favorite movie is a balance between Crash(2004) and The Dark Knight. My cat is lord and master of the universe.

Book preview

Like Wax Under Flame:

A Novella

By: Alexandra Pelaez

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 by Alexandra Pelaez

Cover design by Alexandra Pelaez

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

Table of Contents

Author’s Notes

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Afterword

About the Author

Contact

Author’s Notes

This novella is a 23,000 word excerpt from an adult dystopian novel of the same title that is currently in the works. To avoid spoilers, further details can be found in the afterword at the end.

Chapter 1

Achtunng Street was not a haven for rape gangs.

At first glance, such a statement would seem obvious. Rape gangs preferred sectors in the varios with the cleanest air. Achtunng Street was located smack dab in Sector 3-G where the Toymaker’s factories spewed a constant stream of fire and smoke to the point where it resembled a never-ending religious ritual. No one survived in Sector 3-G for more than a couple of months unless they had a state of the art nose filter or a breath mask, and a rape gang boss would ass-fuck himself with a crowbar before blowing hundreds of creds on a single one when victims were plentiful on the other side. An average rape gang boss.

Zar, however, was not an average rape gang boss. Screams and pleas alone weren’t enough to satisfy him. He had a fetish for blood, and damn, there was so much in the human body. The first time he cut his first throat it had just sprayed out like a fucking fountain and didn’t stop. It just went on and on and on…

It wasn’t enough. It was thrill, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted, needed, more than a victim. The light of life needed to burn in the bitch’s (or the bastard’s, but he didn’t usually swing that way) eyes before she died. He wanted to feel that light sear the flesh of his face, of his cock. That would be thrill. The thought itself was so thrill, he blew half the gang’s treasury on nose filters that would enable them all to breathe the toxic fumes of Sector 3-G. Here right in Achtunng Street was where his fantasies would come alive because it was one of the only shortcuts to Ander’s Weapons Factory. Abandoned by the Toymaker for over thirty years, it was a goldmine for black marketers. Anyone who wanted to earn some hard creds just had to disable the alarms for a few minutes, grab something, and pitch it to the Crypters or the Pythons. Such a prospect would tempt Zar or a member of his gang into a break-in, but none of them were well-versed in tech hacking. No matter. When they did break-ins, it was a lot more fun to grab some poor bastard flog and cut them until they gave up the code.

The thought of blood made his own collect into his lower areas and he cursed loudly.

Maybe we should try Uthon Street, Furst suggested. He was a scrawny thing with spidery hands and bulging gray eyes. Heard some Toughsluts like to spin around there.

Just a few more minutes, Zar whispered.

You smell something good, boss? Kerr asked, grinning like the sick loon he was. You do, don’t you?

Yes, I do, Zar said, and he did. In that moment, he did smell something.

As if to mock him, it began to rain hard, destroying the scent. Zar swore again before forcing himself to calm down. It was coming. Just because he couldn’t smell it anymore didn’t mean it wasn’t coming. It was coming right at him, and he would get it.

He grinned a grin that could put Kerr’s to shame when he saw a dark figure making its way down the acid scorched pavement. The figure was of medium build and wore a long, hooded cloak, but Zayne could tell from the boot-size that it was a female.

Signal the others, he hissed to Furst without taking his eyes off his prey. Make a circle when I give the code.

He didn’t hear Furst carry out his order. His prey was continuing to walk down Achtunng as if it were the yellow brick road. Her body was completely wrapped in her cloak, including her arms. That was beyond mudmoor. Anyone who set foot in such varios should have a plasma pistol or two on their hands or belts where anyone could see them. Hiding your weapons meant you were either mudmoor or you wanted to be fucked.

Maybe that’s exactly what she wants, Zar thought with glee. Oh shit, this is gonna be thrill.

Of course, it would be thrill. The reason he was here in the first place was because he had heard rumors from a reliable source that Toughsluts were among those who dared venture into Achtunng Street in the hopes of grabbing something from Ander’s or any of the Toymaker’s abandoned weapons factories.

I don’t see any weapons, Furst whispered. Maybe she’s not a Toughslut.

Who gives a shit? Kerr said with an almost girlish giggle. We’re gonna—

Shut up! Zar hissed. I’m giving the code. NOW!

He jumped from the rail he had been hiding beside and landed on the disposal box a few feet below. He jumped again and landed on the pavement. His knife was already out and pointed at his prey.

TOUGHSLUT! he bellowed. Hey, Toughslut!

All ten members of his gang had formed a circle around her, jeering and waving their weapons. If Zar wasn’t already hard as a rock, he would have found it suspicious that she was just standing there not moving or speaking, just letting the rain pelt off her form and sudden death mock her from every corner.

Oh, what the fuck. She was a Toughslut, and she was his.

No one touch her! he shouted at his gang. He brought his knife up and moved forward.

She still didn’t move or speak. Zar grinned.

Hey, there, he whispered. He was so intent, he didn’t even feel the acid raindrops land in his mouth. Heeyyyyyy, theeerrrrrreeee…

She remained perfectly still. Zar couldn’t see very well under her hood, but it wasn’t hard to make out the breath mask. He laughed.

You look like you could use a good nose filter. He stopped right in front of her. Take that mudmoor tech off.

She didn’t move. He inched the knife close to her throat.

Take it off, he whispered. Or I will.

Don’t take it off, his inside voice begged. Oh, don’t take it off. Let me take it off after you fight, after you bleed…

All right, then, he said when he got no response. Let’s play, Toughslut.

His hand shot out to grab her