The sand exploded around us like geysers, sending glittering particles raining down on our heads.
From each eruption emerged what I can only describe as the lovechild of a crab and a nightmare. Ten-foot monstrosities burst from beneath the surface, their chitinous shells gleaming with the same silvery-blue iridescence as the sand.
Eight spindly legs supported bodies the size of compact cars, topped with clusters of beady eyes that glowed like molten gold in the moonlight.
"Well, fuck," I muttered, readjusting my grip on my bat.
"Harvesters," Monica whispered, clutching Copernicus tighter. "The trees warned us about them."
"They're surrounding us," Juan said, his voice unnaturally calm now that his fears had materialized. "Eight... no, nine of them."
The crabs clicked their massive pincers, each snap sounding like a car door being slammed. A thick, mucus-like substance dripped from their mandibles, sizzling when it hit the sand. Acid. Because of course it was acid.
