Dashing to one side, SEB positioned himself behind a small boulder, raising his pistol in anticipation. Bez jumped up and down on the spot to pump himself up for the battle, opting to stay out in the open and take the swarm head on. He let out a final, furious cry of anger. It had begun.

  A pair of Sandskins were the first to emerge from the grainy mist, their powerful claws digging deep into the sand as they bounded forward with terrifying menace. Their snarls intensified as they saw both halves of their fallen ally sprawled on the ground, and with a horrifying screech of anguish their pace quickened.

  BANG!

  Seb’s pistol recoiled in his hand, freshly-fired and pulsing purple after a scorching shot. He had placed his plasma bolt directly between one of the Sandskin’s yellow eyes, and with one final belch of pain its body fell to the group, lifeless.

  Yes! I can do this. Focus and you’ll get through this.

  The other Sandskin was quickly approaching Bez, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. With a definitive swipe, he dashed to one side as the Sandskin made its lunge. His plasma sword seemed to move faster than the wind itself – a split second later the scaly head of the Sandskin rifled up into the air, before tumbling down to the ground and setting itself on the body it once inhabited.

  This fight wasn’t over though – far from it. A new group, three by the looks of it, emerged from the sandy smoke, seemingly more agitated than ever. They bared their decayed, sharp teeth with pride, ready to sink their jaws into the brothers’ necks. It was a well-known Sandskin technique to go for the neck and break it first, before devouring their fallen foes – a fate Seb was desperate to avoid at all costs. These Sandskins appeared different, however. They had a sadistic look in their eyes, one that said they would much rather tear Seb apart limb from limb than provide a quick death.

  Seb let fire another plasma bolt, once again going for the headshot, but a subterranean tremor shifted his right foot sideways. He missed the forehead of the Sandskin running in front, and instead the bolt impacted the arm of the one behind.

  Damn! How could I miss at such a crucial moment?

  At the very least one of them was incapacitated for now, recoiling in pain while the other two bounded ahead. They were too close now for an effective shot. He prepared himself for melee combat.

  The Sandskins broke apart from their calculated charge and split off in two, one for each of the brothers. Seb drew his blade and activated it, and with a flare of magnificent purple it was ready for the worst.

  Adopting the defensive stance his father taught him, he prepared for the colossal impact of the charging beast. Bez had other ideas, however, and ran towards his foe head on. Seb could hear the electric pulse of his brother’s blade interlocking with the Sandskin’s claw, but he had no time to look – his own foe was almost upon him.

  With an athletic leap the Sandskin soared through the air, raising its arm for a deadly swipe of the claw. Seb saw this just in time – before the lethal blow could connect, he blocked it with his sword. The plasma spluttered and crackled, violet sparks flying in all directions, as it tried to hold off the unbearable force of the claw. Before he buckled under the sheer weight he rolled to one side, barely avoiding a swipe from the Sandskin’s other arm.

  He was now facing away from his foe, crouched down low on the ground, trying to find his footing again in the shifting sands scuttering around his boots. He could feel the Sandskin’s rancid breath down his back. The shadow cast by the low afternoon sun told him the creature had opened its jaw wide, ready to snap his neck.

  I have to act fast – it’ll bite my head off otherwise!

  Swivelling around as fast as he could, overcome by instinctive fear, he blindly swung the edge of his plasma blade behind him. The hissing stopped. Seb forced himself to turn around – the Sandskin’s jaw was slack, as if overwhelmed by shock, and its narrow eyes slowly fluttered shut. The rest of the creature’s body toppled over, swallowed by the living desert floor.

  A cold sweat dripped down his forehead; he stared at his bloodied blade in horror. He could feel the desert wind inside his lungs, hot as the sun itself. No amount of quick breaths in and out calmed him. In the distance, he heard a faint voice.

  “Seb!” Bez cried, “Two more Sandskins – that makes three total!”

  Seb snapped towards the dust cloud, which he had almost forgotten about during the heat of battle. Bez was right – two more Sandskins had joined the fray and regrouped with the injured one to form a formidable trio. The pack of creatures looked at one another, seemingly in understanding, and broke off into two groups once more.

  Damn, two of them are heading my way! Do they know I’m the weak link?

  With a final, reaffirming nod from Bez, Seb was ready to fight. He juggled the plasma sword between his hands, reminding himself of the grip and weight of the weapon. This blade was far more experienced than him, and had been wielded by worthier warriors. If luck wasn’t on his side, it would need a new owner soon.

  They attacked as a pair, catching him by surprise. He managed to deflect one of their swipes, but another group of claws formed in the side of his vision just too late. He tried ducking down, but it was no use.

  ARGH!

  A cold sensation consumed his right shoulder, before the unmistakable wave of pain coursed through his entire arm. Three distinct gash marks tore through his jacket, and fresh blood stained his sleeve and ran down his bicep.

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  The Sandskins snickered, delighting in the suffering. They split off again, positioning themselves either side of Seb. A new, sadistic snarl spread across both of their faces. He focused as best he could, ignoring the excruciating ache in his arm and the uncertainty in his mind. He needed to push through the pain if he was going to get through this – it was a fight that demanded his total concentration.

  There! One of the Sandskins had a similar injury to himself, and was dragging its front limb through the sand as it crawled around. It was the one he shot earlier! In a sudden rush, he recalled what his parents had taught him many years ago. Though he had only partaken in a couple of combat lessons with them before their passing, one piece of advice in particular seemed apt.

  Mother always told me to look for the opponent’s weakness – she said it was what separated them from every other foe, and what separated them from me. Weakness is vulnerability.

  Vulnerability means I can win.

  The thought of his mother comforted him, but above all else he felt a renewed sense of courage. He was ready for this ensuing battle, and he was going to make that Sandskin pay for what it did to his arm.

  It was the injured Sandskin who lunged first. It jumped towards him at terrifying speed, but Seb noticed a crucial flaw in its attack – its damaged left arm was unusable so it only primed its right claw for the assault. With this knowledge, he knew what to do.

  He stepped calmly to the creature’s left, the side of the injury, and let the creature soar by. It tried swiping at him with its working claw, but it couldn’t reach. It had played all of its cards. It was now vulnerable to an attack.

  Taking a deep breath, Seb raised his plasma blade in a quick, precise motion. The blade carved through the air, into the scaly underbelly of the airborne Sandskin, and easily forced its way through and up out the other side. Crashing into the dunes, both halves of the creature were flung towards Bez’s very first kill, forming four bifurcated heaps on the ground.

  How are we going to identify the original target now? Seb wondered, before snapping his attention to the remaining living creature. Actually, let’s focus on surviving this ordeal first.

  The other Sandskin was furious, scraping its claws and hind legs into the ground as it let out a thunderous shriek. Seb knew this one was going to be trickier – it had no weaknesses as far as he could see, and it would surely be tougher when enraged.

  I’ll just have to create a whole new weakness.

  It was the beast that made the first move. This time, it took the low approach – it wasn’t going to repeat the same mistake as the other Sandskin. It slithered along the ground, digging its pointed nose into the sand as it went, unbothered by the shifting landscape surrounding it, and maintained the snake-like movement as it darted from left to right at blistering speed.

  With both claws, the Sandskin swiped at Seb’s legs. Luckily, he reacted quick enough; he vaulted through the air, a whisker away from losing his limbs. Landing with a roll, he regained his composure and turned to face his enemy.

  The Sandskin took the same approach again, staying low and darting sideways to make his movements unpredictable. He was ready to leap again, but the creature anticipated his jump. It rose to meet him mid-air, catching him by surprise.

  Damn! How could I be duped by such a simple tactic?

  A singular claw was all that met him this time, and Seb had to quickly retract his arms to block the attack with his blade. It wasn’t a clean block, though, and the strong vibration of the impact sent a painful shockwave up his arm and into his wound. With a gasp of pain, he dropped his blade and fell to the ground with a thump.

  A dull ache spread across his back and arm, and as he lay in the sand, tremors under his feet, head to the sky, he felt a sudden rush of dread. The Sandskin would surely be upon him any second now. There was nothing he could do. Unless …

  With the last of his strength, Seb quickly yanked his pistol out the holster. He leant up, aiming his pistol for the Sandskin’s face, but the creature was too quick. It pounced on top of him, its full weight almost crushing every bone in his body, and it swatted his pistol aside with its tail. His eyes were now interlocked with its fleshy, yellow cavities; the mere sight of those ungodly orifices sent an overwhelming fear through his body. Baring its crooked, sharp teeth, a throaty growl sprayed a nasty saliva all over his face. Its jaws opened to reveal a terrifying chasm. A final hiss told him it was all over.

  It all happened so suddenly.

  The centre of the creature’s face opened up, a fresh hole carving its way through its eyes and nose, revealing the horrible, pulpy innards of its brain and skull. Letting out an empty noise, the creature slumped down on top of Seb, dead.

  From behind the creature Bez emerged, sheathing his freshly-fired pistol. He hoisted the creature up into the air like it was a blanket before flinging it towards the other pile of dead Sandskins. Seb looked up at his older brother in wonder and amazement, but too traumatised to speak his thanks.

  “You told me it was just one Sandskin, Felix,” Bez grumbled to himself. “Bah, when I get my hands on that soddin’ tycoon …”

  He shook his head in dismay, but when he spotted his younger brother he put on a sneering smile. “Quite a body count you managed to rack up over there, Seb. I must’ve taught you well!”

  He grabbed Seb’s hand and pulled, helping him back to his feet. Seb nodded in quiet affirmation, wiping the sticky blood and flesh from his nose and cheeks. He ran his fingers through his slimy hair, and paused to look at the reddish goop he had accrued on his palms. Whether it was the Sandskin’s blood or his, he couldn’t tell.

  “Wow, now that was fun! What did I tell you – just another job.” Bez slapped him on the back, startling him. “Now then, let’s figure out which of these soddin’ bodies is worth slicing and claim our reward. How about that, Seb? Drinks on me?”

  Seb tried to answer but couldn’t get the words out. It took a couple of weak coughs to clear his throat, and his head, before he could reply.

  “Uh … Sure. Sounds good.”

  As the sun began to set, the brothers spent the rest of the afternoon daylight pillaging through the bodies, scavenging proof of their success. Bez cut out one of their tongues as a memento – “One for the history books”, he announced – wiping it dry on his jacket and stuffing it down his back pocket alongside the diamond drill bit.

  Night had almost fallen and they still couldn’t figure out which Sandskin was the original target … or which half, anyway. They decided to take a decapitated head, one of Bez’s early victims, with them as the moon began to rise. Basking in the stale moonlight, thankful of its subtle cool, they set off towards Amia – the town where their clients would be waiting.