They were gone when we got back from our supply run and after several hours we eventually found them in a clearing by the foot of the mountain, holding hands in a circle around the carcass of something so freshly killed we could see steam rising from the gaping holes in its sides.
We stood just within the treeline trying to figure out what they'd found. If it had once been human then there were rites to be read and an honest burial to arrange. For anything else there were matches and the liquor we brewed for just such an occasion.
I wasn't the one to try and catch their attention - that unfortunately honour belonged to my cousin Charlie. They never were the sharpest tool in the shed but they were the sharpest shooter at least.
One brief holler had the supply group's heads snapping to look at us in one sudden motion, swift as releasing an arrow. I swear I heard their necks break, a few flopping to one side as we realised that they'd stumbled into a progenitor.
Charlie was the first to realise his mistake and take aim to stop them from advancing on us. The rest of us joined in and filled the air with a cacophony of slaughter til the supply group were dead and the progenitor was even less recognisable as a formerly living being.
We hoped the next supply run would go smoother.
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