their flesh, swallowing whole lumps of meat as they feast on their remains. He knows that the sounds are horrific to the rest of the group but wants to observe their behaviour for a moment. He needs to see how they operate if he is going to be able to fight them and thinks as they gorge themselves: This is insane. They don’t attack each other when they are running around. Even though they are effectively in competing groups. But dead ones… they have no problem recycling them. Maybe we can use one or two of them as bait?

He has seen enough for now and wanting to preserve the morale of the group as much as possible, takes aim with the scope and prepares to fire.

Suddenly he finds himself in the middle of the street with his sword drawn.