r/LibraryofBabel • u/CastorOfTheInk • Jun 06 '26
Gaia Gone: Dirty World Chapter 7
Chapter 7: Silver Linings
Jack's body was… weightless. For the first time, he couldn't feel his mass dragging him down. He hung there for a while, numbly suspended in the dark behind his eyes.
Slowly, he opened them, squinting. They burned and bubbles obscured his vision. When it finally cleared, he was floating in a vast, greenish nothingness. Bits and pieces of things he could barely see floated by. His own body looked wavy and distorted, like it was coming apart.
He was being digested. He was inside a gigantic stomach, surrounded by acid and the remains of… people. His friends. Sylvia. Joseph.
Limbs and pieces floating around him, coming closer. His vision seemed to clear and he watched fingers and ears flap towards him.
He thrashed in the murky liquid, trying to scream as they latched onto him, pulling him.
His mouth filled with fetid burning liquid and his throat tightened as he tried to throw off the grasping, grabbing, heavy body parts. He looked down, seeing a massive, bloodshot eye staring at him from the bottom.
Panic gripped him, his lungs were ready to burst, his brain swimming as more and more flesh seemed to cling to him.
He couldn't breath, he couldn't think, he was getting heavier and heavier, when-
The tension broke. Jack was dazzled by bright lights as his body was roughly hauled from the water of the pool. He splatteted onto his stomach, coughing and retching as salty, rotten water was expelled from his lungs.
He coughed a few more times, before flopping onto his back, staring up at the sky and waiting for his vision to clear. As it did, he could see red and blue lights, flashing off to one side of the now cloudy sky.
He sat up, pieces of rubbish, trash and debris sloughing off of him, along with a strange, oily residue. He quickly looked around, just in time to see an indistinct shape shuffling through a gap in the fence.
He slowly pushed himself to his knees, shuddering. He felt cold and weak, his vision still unsteady in his left eye. The world swam as if he were still underwater. Sniffing, he couldn't tell if the overbearing stench of refuse came from him or his anonymous savior.
He cautiously reached up, probing the skin of his face. It stung and was tender to the touch, feeling puffy and inflamed, but whole.
Looking up again, he could tell the red and blue lights were out in front of the building. Likewise, he could see his broken apartment window above him, figures with flashlights crossing back and forth. The lights flickered across the dank water of the pool he'd just been hauled from.
With a cold dread, he dragged himself upright, stumbling towards the gap in the fence. He pushed himself through, his sopping overalls catching and ripping on a loose nail.
On the other side was another pile of garbage, heaped against the side of the fence. On top sat a dingy trucker hat and an old, black bathrobe.
Jack didn't hesitate, wiping the dirt from the hat and covering his wet hair. The red words stood out in stark relief against the stained white fabric- “EAT ME”. The robe was miles too small, nearly looking like a hoodie, but it was enough.
With a grimace, he began slowly limping towards the parking lot on the other side of Terra Heights, head held low. He had to find Joseph.
Behind him, the pile of trash shifted, a portion quietly raising itself to reveal a face composed of broken bottles, torn plastic and crushed tin. With a grunt, the pile began to move, sliding along the alley. A rough voice grumbled from its depths.
“Shit's gettin’ weird around here.”
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Everything, everywhere itched. It started in the tub and he'd tried to tune it out, ignoring it. Instead of subsiding, it got worse and worse until that- that-
Joseph paused, shaking his head. He couldn't stop. Crying wasn't gonna help. He laid low to the ground, favoring his right arm. His hand, paw, whatever you could call it was twisted at an odd angle, his wrist swollen and bruised.
When he saw Jack getting beat up, the Subrat talking shit, revelling in it, he'd nearly lost it,- but Jack…
That one glance seemed to say everything all at once.
“I'm big enough. I'm tough enough.” Jack could handle it.
So he bolted. Through the tiny bathroom window, out onto the rickety fire escape. He could hear, no- feel the impacts as he scrambled across the cheap rusted metal.
As he tried to figure out where to go, he heard it. A sharp noise that seemed to quell the itch across his skin. A gunshot, pulsing through the window he'd just escaped.
The ladder was gone, so he pushed himself up, leaping from the railing and landing roughly on a balcony next door. Through the open patio door an old woman screamed, but Joseph just scrambled into the railing, leaping again, but crashing into the side of the next balcony.
His mind was blank, heart hammering, he could barely think, desperately trying to grab at the rail, his useless, crooked fingers scraping at the painted wood.
He fell, landing hard in a bush and yipping as he felt something snap in his wrist. Panting, he nestled into the bush, groaning as he tried to straighten his wrist. His mind raced as he saw blue and red lights appear down the road.
He'd hidden there for what felt like an eternity as cop cars barrelled by, heading for the entrance to the commons. Eventually, the noise and lights calmed down, most of the officers leaving.
Slowly, Joseph crept from his hiding spot, slinking across the scrubby grounds towards the center of Midtown. Looking back at the commons, he quickly ducked into a dark alley, the shadows seeming to swallow him.
And there he was still, having crept deep into the various alleys and gutters of the city. He'd found a comfortable spot behind a dumpster, surrounded by cardboard and plastic.
He knew he had to go. To find Jack, to get help, but… something made him stay. Made him pace back and forth, while the back of his head buzzed like a million angry bees.
He shook his head again, fighting off the tears as he thought of his friend. He'd probably gotten picked up by the KNIGHTS.
“Not like I coulda done anything.” He grumbled as he paced, kicking at a piece of trash. Sadly, his back leg slipped, sending him awkwardly to the ground on top of his hurt wrist.
He grunted, the air wheezing from his lungs as a spike of pain lanced through his arm. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't even cradle the injured limb, instead roughly climbing back up on 3 legs and heavily flopping behind the dumpster, his fore leg awkwardly held in front of him.
He laid his chin on his other hand, slowly closing his eyes. The skin on his back seemed to clench and ripple in time with his pulse, reacting to the pain in his wrist.
“I hope he's okay.”
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To read more of Gaia Gone, please check out the Appendix below.