Flora spotted movement in the corner of her eye a moment before a blinding flash erupted below the den’s entrance. The blast knocked her to the ground. For a moment she felt nothing, before the ringing in her ears faded to reveal the kids screaming. Their anguish brought cut through her mind.

‘Quick, run for the bolt!’ shouted Flora as she struggled to stand. Their shrieking intensified, piercing the den. She’d never heard anything like the high-pitch screams. It chilled her to her core, resonating through her skull. Then, as her eyes came into focus, every muscle and fibre in her body froze. One of the Twins was howling, his face bright with blood. His mouth stretched wide, blood dripping from his nose and lips, eyes white, fixed on the limp body next to him. There was no doubt about the fate of

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The exposure of the open-sided floor was a shock. Behind them, in the jumble of collapsed beams, lay their tiny bolt hole, now invisible among the chaos of the partially collapsed tower block. Just a few steps in front was a vertiginous drop. Jagged concrete teeth stretched towards them from the jaws of the city, its hazy breath obscuring their roots.

Flora struggled to catch her breath, her mind reeling. She had to keep going—be strong— if any of them were to survive. They had most of their gear, some food, and water...

‘We forgot the water!’ she exclaimed aloud, burying her head in her hands, before quickly recoiling. Peeling her fingers away, she looked in horror at her hands. They were coated in the sticky blood of the Twin. Small chunks of concrete stuck to her palms, and now to her face. She tried to wipe herself clean as a sense of panic simmered in her belly.

Ratter, who was crouched next to her, caught her eyes. A decision passed wordlessly between them. In an instance he turned and hurried back towards the exit from the den.

‘Be careful!’

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As the tension ebbed from her body, Flora realised her feet were freezing cold from standing on the concrete floor. Now that the bird had paused its insistent ringing but didn’t seem to want to leave, she suggested to the others that they got ready for the day as usual.

Flora hurried back to her bedroll, anxious to ensure the shell was well hidden from the kids. She wrapped it in a hoodie and tucked it carefully into her backpack. There was something freaky about that bird; it was too smart. Every time that Wings or another of the kids tried to creep up on it, the bird jumped to a higher perch out of reach, but as soon as their backs were turned, it returned to the alarm pole. And, why now? First the freaky dust ripples and the appearance of the giant shell, now this weird bird.

Flora had a distinct feeding that the birds beady eyes were still

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Flora woke in an instant, heart hammering in her chest. Their alarm was sounding! An urgent ringing pierced the air as the exposed metal pipe near the den entrance was struck repeatedly. She shed her coats and jumped up, legs bent ready for action, a blade clenched in her trembling fingers. Flora glanced briefly to her sides and found all five kids cowering in the gloom behind her, their frightened eyes staring towards the bright entrance. If it wasn’t one of them, then who was ringing the alarm?

Squinting into the light she spotted motion, something moving in rhythm with the alarm. She took a tentative couple of steps forward. Now she could see more clearly. Still only a silhouette, yet clearly not a person. It was

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Flora woke with a strange feeling, her senses tingling. Something had changed, shifted, in the night. She couldn’t even remember falling asleep. A vague memory plagued her that she’d been disturbed in the night.

She lay motionless for a while, listening acutely. Her bun was thrumming and she began to massage it with two fingers. The only sounds were the breaths of the sleeping kids and the dripping of water. Flora opened her eyes, still heavy with sleep. It was still dark, but the moon was bright behind the haze, casting deep cool shadows across the den. The familiar patterns of collapsed and teetering concrete beams and steel joists provided a welcome reality. One of the kids cried out; a bad dream. She laid still, wrapped against the cold in a pile of coats and blankets, gathering her thoughts.

Finally, she mustered the energy to rise, but only because she needed the can. She stood, shivering in the cold, took a step, then froze.

Strange patterns stretched away from her across the central space. Regular curved ripples, like a shell dropped into one of the drinking pots.

They spread outwards as perfect ridges of dust, drawing her eyes towards the epicentre where there was no dust at all. There, something else glowed in the moonlight.

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The road stretched into the distance, fading into the yellow haze. The Shell Man felt the city was now in striking distance, but he could never let his guard down. This section was narrow and foreboding, constrained between two high walls of twisted metal, made of vehicles cleared from the highway during the Before. It was the perfect place for an ambush, yet he also knew there were few who would dare threaten him.

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‘There were once five great dragons who ruled the world,’ began Flora hesitantly. The kids sat around her, transfixed. She plucked five precious coloured glass fragments from a pocket in her coats, ready to hold up each in turn. Blue is for Water, red for Fire, green for Earth, yellow for Air, and the largest and brightest shard of all, purple, for the greatest dragon of all.

‘Water lived in the oceans but they sometimes swam into the mouths of rivers, and even upstream until they couldn’t squeeze their bodies in any further. They never felt any desire to sun themselves on a pebbly beach.’

Flora passed the glass shard to Spider Girl, who held it up to the meagre light at the den’s entrance. Blue light danced across her face, reminding Flora of the day she found a huge pile of coloured glass. They were in the ruins of a strange building. It must once have been huge, standing tall above all other buildings during the Before. It didn’t have beams of concrete and steel like others, but blocks of stone, elegantly curved or shaped in perfect squares. She’d even found some fragments with strange carvings which looked like parts of birds and animals.

‘Fire,’ continued Flora, ‘lived where the sun baked the Earth and

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The five pack horses laboured up the faint path which zigzagged towards the ridge. It had been twenty days since Shell Man had left comforts behind at his warehouse near the coast. He had already traded six packs of shells. Even so, it had been a long and gradual ascent from the sea as the caravan carried a larger load than usual towards making his fortune in the inner zone. While close to the sea he was paid, not in ammunition, but in fresh food, including bread loaves, leather shoes, winter coats and hay for the horses. He still had plenty to trade in the city.

He always gave the lead mare the lightest load. A small bell tied to her leather panniers tinkled quietly in rhythm with her gait. Her energetic pace encouraged the caravan up the trail, not that he drove them hard, they were too precious

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Her return at dusk was greeted by noisy chatter. Most of the kids had lost count of how many days Flora had been away, but Ratter had scored the four days and nights diligently on the concrete above his bedroll.

The kids knew the water would soon be sweet again and there might even be other treats in store. As Flora entered the den they gathered tightly round her as the light faded. To her amazement, Spider Girl was among them, a smile beaming across her face. Letting go of Wings’ hand, she walked gingerly towards Flora and embraced her, squeezing her waist in a bear hug.

Flora looked down and stroked the little girl’s blond hair, secretly wondering who she should be thanking for the miracle. She exchanged a happy smile with Wings who seemed to have grown yet again, her lanky body and spindly legs almost raising her green eyes to the level of Flora’s.

First the kids wanted to see how many shells the trade had yielded. They didn’t ask how she was, but then they didn’t know the ordeal she suffered every time she made a trade. All they knew was

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READ ME: sic hunt arbores is a serialised novel being simultaneously written and shared by author Gabriel Hemery on Substack during 2026. Short extracts are free to view, but full content is only available to paid subscribers. Thank you for your support and encouragement.

How to find content

All content from the serialised novel can be found under READ ME, visible as a separate tab on the desktop version (but not in the mobile app - click on link instead). See also the Index of Chapters below.

New content

I aim to publish at least one new chapter every week, typically on a Thursday. Check back regularly to look for updates, or your check your inbox if you’ve subscribed.

The first chapter was released on 1st January 2026.

Index of Chapters (so far)

BOOK I ~ FLORA

• Flora

• Shell Man

• Shells

• Death Valley

• Dragons

• Into the City

• Ripples

• Alarm

• Bird

• Flee

• Refugia

Few knew the safe route from the sea. None had mastered the trade like him. He knew that once he was far enough inland and the coast was out of sight, far away from the other beach collectors, he could be more bold, although there was always dual dangers from the desperate and the ignorant.

It was perpetually a surprise that others hadn’t stumbled across the same lucrative trade, but then, if they’d tried, he would have made it his business to make sure they fell hard and were buried six feet under. Or left for the corvids.

His trade satisfied all his personal needs, granting him safe passage to scattered communities, from the big city to those up in the hills.

Shells for shells. Such a simple trade, yet so effective now that his army of young scavengers had helped to create quite the arsenal. A day’s walk inland, he had amassed a whole team of

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‘Blossoming, aren’t you girl!’ He’d said it like it was a compliment. So, the tender lumps on her chest, the regular cramps and leaking blood, were personal achievements, milestones to celebrate? But then, it was true, she was still alive—the oldest kid she knew in Cofantreo City.

Flora was lost in her thoughts but remembered to duck under the concrete parapet and its jagged maw of protruding rebar at the entrance to the den. She’d grazed her head on it twice in as many days, miscalculating her height. Each time the blood matted her waist-long hair, staining the blond curls and making them crisp when it dried. Her legs ached at night. Growing pains—that’s what they called them. At this rate she’d soon need to go on all fours to enter.

‘What’s up?’ she called into the gloom, neither expecting, nor receiving, much of a response. A shuffle from Spider Girl’s corner disturbed the rhythm of water drops falling from the ceiling, resounding in the drinking pots. A constant reminder to keep living; the heartbeat of a city where the stinging rain never ceased.

An outsider once told her she’d heard of a Spider Girl from Before, one that could climb and swing from buildings using magic rope she kept under her arms. Flora had told them that their Spider Girl couldn’t do that. Ratter had given her the name when she started keeping a spider in a little box, tucked inside her coat, next to her blade. The outsider had ruffled Flora’s hair and laughed, but she hadn’t thought it was funny. Not then. Especially not now.

Flora stepped forward confidently, avoiding the first of the pots on the ground as her eyes adjusted to the dimly-lit cavern, though she didn’t need to see to know where she was in the den. ‘Spider, you there girl?’

She was exactly where Flora had left her, propped up against a beam, her coats, hair and skin the same dust-grey as her surroundings. Wings was with her, holding her hand, looking anxious and exhausted. Flora reached out and squeezed the little girl’s arm. ‘She’ll come round,’ she reassured Wings in a whisper she almost believed herself.

Spider Girl’s eyelids opened, startling white among the grey, blinking once. A flicker of recognition registered before her eyes closed again. Tears began to run down Spider’s cheeks, rivulets of precious moisture washing away the dust.

Flora bent down to touch her forehead. It was burning hot. These pills she’d risked her own life for had better work. They couldn’t get anyone to examine her, not here, not in the den. No-one from outside was allowed to know about the den.

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