The Zion Tower (The Chaos Legacies: Book 1) Read online

  THE ZION TOWER

  THE CHAOS LEGACIES

  BOOK ONE

  J. D. JONES

  Copyright © 2023 by J. D. Jones

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Illustration © Tom Edwards

  TomEdwardsDesign.com

  For Gina. Thank you for being the most important part of my life. This is for you, I hope you enjoy it. All my love, J x

  CONTENTS

  Cast of Characters

  Overture

  Prologue

  I. Legacy of Achievement

  1. Zion Tower

  2. Northernlands - Forum

  3. Southernlands - Smith Household

  4. Zion Tower

  5. Southernlands - Smith Household

  6. Northernlands - Forum

  7. Southernlands - Smith Household

  8. Southernlands

  9. Northernlands - Forum

  10. Zion Tower - Hospital

  11. Rio

  12. Zion Tower

  13. Zion Tower

  14. New Vegas

  15. Trebarwyth

  16. Undisclosed Location

  17. NUNA

  The First Interlude

  II. Ghosts We Once Knew

  18. Haltan

  19. New Madrid

  20. Zion Tower - Offices

  21. NUNA

  22. Lagos Islands

  23. NUNA

  24. Lagos Islands

  25. Lagos Islands

  26. Bordeaux

  27. Lagos Islands

  28. Lagos Islands

  29. Zion Tower - Council Chambers

  The Second Interlude

  III. The Calm Before

  30. Lagos Islands

  31. NUNA - The White City

  32. NUNA

  33. NUNA - The White City

  34. Zion Tower

  35. Cherbourg

  36. The Chaos Prison

  37. Cherbourg

  38. The Chaos Prison

  39. Zion Tower

  40. Zion Tower

  41. Zion Tower

  42. Zion Tower - Corridors

  43. Zion Tower

  44. Zion Tower - Council Chambers

  The Chaos Legacies Will Continue In…

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  The World Council and Their Families

  Luke Smith (previously called “Link”) - World Leader*

  Zoey Smith, Luke’s wife*

  Jonathan Smith (called “Joth”), their son - Deputy World Leader*

  Abigail Smith (called “Abbie”), their daughter

  James King (called “Jim”) - Second in Command*

  Stephanie Rose - The Architect*

  Gordon Rose, Stephanie’s husband - The Doctor*

  Charlie and George Rose, their children

  Hitesh Khan - Chaos Regulator*

  Nora Siguard - The Accountant*

  Laura Williams, Nora’s wife

  Hanlin Leong (called “Hans”) - Business Secretary*

  Christie Leong, Hanlin’s wife

  Angel Leong, their daughter

  Emily Ross - Foreign Secretary*

  Nyandu Chuita - Head of Security*

  Meredith Belles - Governor of NUNA*

  Evangeline Belles, Meredith’s daughter

  *Current members of the World Council

  Zion Tower Staff

  Tim Sawyer - Hospital Dean

  Amy Tyne - Chief of Police

  Derek Larrson - CDU Engineer

  Jacob Mason - Zion Agent

  Eliot Holder - Zion Agent

  Ellie Wright - Zion Agent

  Marianne D’Campro - Chaos Prison Security Master

  Bill Atkinson - Trebarwyth Worker

  Joanne Parker - Trebarwyth Worker

  The Viper and his Followers

  The Viper - Crime Lord

  Jupiter - Human Trafficker

  Jan, Jupiter’s assistant

  Gatz - Forum Boss

  Russo - Forum Boss

  Mustafa - Forum Boss

  Edward Carradice - Forum Patron

  The Countess - An Unknown

  Adil (Called “XIV”) - Prisoner

  Kong - Forum Fighter

  Bloodshot - Forum Fighter

  Vesarovic - An Unknown

  Others

  Agatha Holcomb - President of NUNA

  Vincent Ng - Professor

  Anna Tamburro - Professor

  Matias Pieria - An Unknown

  OVERTURE

  Extract from the personal journal of Dr Gordon Rose, Senior Medical Officer and founding member of the World Council

  Peace is a fragile concept. Man has striven for millennia to achieve it, working tirelessly to discover how communities can work in harmony, live peacefully and show love to one another.

  Alas, it is also a flawed concept. As long as selfishness, greed and anger remain in this world, cruelty, hatred and war will be bred. “World Peace” is merely a dream… a trick. Something the world can aspire to, but never quite achieve.

  I say this now, after thirty years of building the New World. Since its inception, the New World has had peace as its central philosophy. It was designed with the ethos of bringing together every nation, creating synergies and forming an international community. I was sceptical; our leaders know that. I said myself that peace could never be achieved. Not whilst a selfish individual still existed. There would always be division.

  Today, somewhat cautiously, I admit that I was wrong. It doesn’t look exactly how I imagined it, but it is rather close. I have come to realise that peace can still be achieved despite those self-absorbed, evil individuals who do not want it. You simply ignore them, and work carefully and quietly to stop them. A New World Order has begun - every nation stands united, with Zion Tower at the centre, a symbol of unity and friendship across the earth. Those who warmonger, who continue their illicit deeds… we slowly strive to catch them, stop them, and prevent them from disrupting the peace. So far, three decades in, we’ve not done badly at all.

  When the Chaos Wars ended, we had no idea where to begin. Samuel Gomez defeated The Angel, but had met his own demise in the process. If it hadn’t been for Link, we would never have even thought peace to be possible. But Link carried on what Gomez had started - a dream for a better world, free of evil and hatred. Alongside him, we formed the New World Council: a collection of dreamers each gifted in their own fields. Doctors, architects, lawyers, economists, police and soldiers, from all corners of the world, all with a yearning to build a new, glistening, beautiful world.

  And here we stand - before Zion Tower, celebrating our legacy of achievement. The Chaos Wars are behind us. Chaos is outlawed. A desire for a better tomorrow exists.

  I can only hope that my original philosophy was wrong. That peace is not fragile, that it can be maintained even through the inevitable trials and tribulations.

  I always imagined peace like tissue paper - pleasing to the eye and bringing beauty to that which it is wrapped around, yet so friable, easily torn and broken. And once broken… it’s nearly impossible to restore.

  It is my prayer that our New World Order is not ripped apart so easily.

  PROLOGUE

  THE SCORCHED LANDS

  “Death could not hold it.”

  ‘Walking Amongst Angels’ (Forbidden Book)

  Anon.

  (This book is forbidden in the New World, and all copies have been lost.)

  The Viper had never been a patient soul, and today was a stark reminder of that fact.

  What angered him most was not the escape of the two agents, but the fact that his team had been so extraordinarily incompetent in retrieving them. As such, he had been forced to take matters into his own hands and venture out into the harsh reality of the Scorched Lands in a somewhat desperate chase.

  Catching up with them had been simple enough. With Chaos on his side, he possessed physical prowess beyond his natural form. Killing the first of the agents had been just as easy, almost child’s play, slicing his body in two smoothly with a single swipe of his deadly scimitar, before his prey could even utter a cry for mercy. No, what had been difficult for The Viper was allowing the second agent to live. Suppressing his natural urge to kill was like holding off a drug he was addicted to. He craved the surge of adrenaline, the thrill of the cut, the satisfaction of the murder. Instead, he had to drag the wretch back with him for questioning. He knew he would regret killing the first. But if his blasted team had got their act together and responded quicker, none of this would have happened! Giving in to his murderous desires and killing one of the agents may have been an unforgivable offence. He muttered a silent prayer that Vesarovic would forgive losing one potential source of information.

  He dragged the unconscious form of agent number two by the ankle, caring little for the damage the desert floor was doing to his prisoner’s body. Hurricane-force wind pounded into The Viper, along with hail and sleet, which melted and evaporated simultaneously after hitting him, as the sun’s blistering heat beat mercilessly down from above. When the Scorched Lands had been formed over thirty years ago, the atmosphere and weather system had been irreparably damaged,
leading to a constant atmospheric disturbance. Whilst desert and wasteland stretched for thousands of miles all around, boiling storms raged daily, with hurricanes and blizzards dancing in tandem. Snow and hail melted into water and boiled under the influence of the furious sun, just as it hit ground level, causing any hopeless wanderer to be both bombarded by sharp, freezing hail, then burnt as it evaporated and surrounded them in boiling steam.

  The Viper was, in part, used to such conditions, having been at home in the Scorched Lands for decades. The weather caused him little distress, especially as he summoned a weak shield of Chaos to surround him as he strode through the wasteland.

  He felt a brief wave of tiredness… it was happening more often these days. He was getting old. The thrill of the chase and rush of the kill gave only fleeting satisfaction. Increasingly so, he found himself wondering about a life away from his empire.

  Pushing through his fatigue, he briefly considered using Chaos to speed up his journey. Then, as if out of nowhere, Hill Castle seemed to materialise in the distance. The vast, pitch-black eyesore could be seen for miles on a clear day in the Scorched Lands, but amid such an extreme storm, he knew that he was nearby upon spotting it.

  His cloak buffeted violently behind him under the ferocious winds. Aside from his cloak, he wore nothing over his torso, exposing his immense muscles and tribal tattoos, covering his whole body from the neck down. He wore simple material trousers, with large black boots and a belt around his waist, sporting a multitude of knives and short swords, differing in size and shape. On his back lay a large scabbard, hosting his prized Greatsword, Venom. The Viper used his favourite weapon infrequently, but preferred to carry it, partially for the nostalgia of its previous use, and partly because he would rather never be caught in a fight without it.

  Scouts on the walls of Hill Castle clearly saw The Viper’s unmistakable form as he neared his home and immediately went about opening the main gates. From above, Hill Castle looked like a huge cross shape, with numerous connections between its four arms. In the centre, a colossal tower stretched into the sky. The Viper acknowledged that it was certainly not a beautiful piece of architecture, built of black bricks and steel, but it served its purpose, and he called it home.

  The Viper entered Hill Castle, barely breaking his stride. Occasionally, his captive would groan or mumble, although he appeared to remain blissfully unaware in the land of his unconscious.

  The corridor The Viper stepped into was abuzz with his various workers going about their business: making weapons, communicating with the Forum bosses and, of course, synthesising the drug. A tall, slender man, clad in black robes with neatly cut brown hair approached The Viper, a smaller, younger man quietly following in his footsteps.

  ‘Sir, Master Vesarovic has arrived and awaits an audience with you,’ the gentleman stated plainly.

  The Viper nodded, dragged his prisoner closer and shoved him towards the two men. He spat on his prey’s face, then turned to address the taller man. ‘I will speak with him privately, Ico. But first, I will deal with this filth.’

  The man named Ico nodded and motioned to the younger man. Springing to life, the man scuttled forward and grabbed the prisoner by his ankles. ‘Where to, sir?’ he nervously managed.

  ‘My regular chamber, boy,’ The Viper ordered, trying his best to show a hint of kindness in his voice. ‘Prepare my tools,’ he added.

  ‘Which ones?’ the nervous young man questioned.

  ‘All of them.’

  The young man bowed his head in acknowledgement and, with impressive strength, hoisted the prisoner into a fireman’s lift over his back, then trundled off deeper into Hill Castle.

  ‘Thank you for being patient with him, Sir,’ Ico began as he and The Viper headed through a door into another corridor. ‘He shows great Potential. Certainly a Chaos user, if I ever saw one.’

  ‘He needs more balls if he is going to be successful. Especially when the next phase of the plan begins. And I imagine that is going to be soon.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘The great Zion Tower opens today,’ he said in a mockingly high voice. ‘I suspect Vesarovic sees this as our time to move.’

  Ico nodded. ‘I’ll ensure that young Agro is ready for then, Sir. He will not let you down.’

  ‘I expect not.’

  The two walked in silence for a while. They took dozens of doors, seemingly getting lost in the maze of corridors that joined the arms of the cross together in the Hill Castle. Neither man lost his bearings, navigating the corridors as naturally as breathing.

  Eventually, they entered a small chamber with several workbenches, where men sat mixing various chemicals over naked flames. The stench of the room would be overwhelming to one not accustomed to it, the odour thick with ammonia and damp. A familiar metallic taste filled The Viper’s mouth as he took a deep breath and basked in the smell that he had come to love.

  ‘Production has increased as per Master Vesarovic’s orders,’ Ico explained. ‘As you can see, we have doubled our numbers in each production room.’

  The Viper nodded. ‘He’ll be pleased. Good work men,’ he announced, before turning swiftly on his heel and briskly strolling out of the room. Ico followed, gliding gracefully.

  ‘Will you join me to interrogate this young fool?’ The Viper asked, as casually as inviting a friend to play a game of chess.

  ‘I do enjoy watching you work, Sir,’ Ico smiled slyly. ‘May I ask… and I hope I’m not overstepping my mark here, Sir, but… what happened to the other…’

  ‘If you, Ico, or any of the other men in this godforsaken place had the ability to keep two prisoners from escaping, then nothing would have happened to the other man. You know me well, old friend, and you know I like the sport. When chasing two assailants, my instincts take over, and death is their only option. That is why I did not want to chase them. I knew I would struggle not to kill them. Luckily, my rage seemed to abate after one died. Now let us hope Vesarovic is satisfied with the information from one.’ The Viper did not share the consequent wave of exhaustion that had nearly overcome him out in the Scorched Lands.

  Ico nodded silently. Did he mutter a quiet apology? The Viper cared not.

  Rounding a corner, they found the young, nervous apprentice Agro standing loyally outside a heavy, metal door. ‘He’s ready for you, Sir,’ Agro announced, clearly attempting to sound more confident than he was.

  The Viper nodded in appreciation. ‘Have a rest this afternoon, young Agro. You’ve done well.’

  Agro smiled, clearly pleased with his master’s compliment and scurried away.

  The Viper stifled a laugh. ‘I like them keen,’ he muttered to Ico, who smiled quietly in response.

  They entered the room to find The Viper’s prisoner tied to a wheel on the wall, stripped naked but for a small cloth covering his groin. The chamber they stepped into was a perfect square. Its walls were streaked with stains from the entrails of The Viper’s previous, less talkative victims.

  In the corner of the room stood a hooded figure with a dark, iron mask clad over his face. Small slits for eyes were the only windows betraying any hint of life behind the mask. Shrouded in darkness, he reminded The Viper of a medieval executioner… a malignant figure bringing death in his wake.

  ‘Sir.’ The Viper and Ico both stood to attention at the sight of their master. The figure nodded in approval and both men relaxed.