The group continued down the road towards the small group of locals. As the group grew closer they could clearly see two things, one was that there was two locals, and two was that they were running. The two were running at full speed down the road, occasionally looking over their shoulders. Karl held up his hand, signaling his group to stop, people don't just run for no reason. The locals didn't appear to be armed and the way they kept looking over their shoulders made it obvious that they were running away from... something. Behind them another group of people emerged. There was about 15-20 people in the second group and they appeared to be chasing the first. As the two locals drew closer to Karl and his group they started screaming at them in a foreign language, pointing at the second group and making gestures indicating that they should run too. 
"Don't follow them. Hold positions."
As the locals passed the group, they slowed down still trying to urge them to run, shouting at them in their own language.
[UNTRANSLATED]
Once it was obvious that Karl and his group weren't running or listening to them the two locals sped up again running past them and down the road. By this time the second group where much closer, and it was obvious they weren't normal people. Their skin was a pale grey, their eyes pitch black. Some were missing limbs, chunks of hair, an eye or two, and some didn't even have clothes on. The group stumbled over each other as they ran towards Karl and his men, with no hint of stopping or going around. They way they looked and acted were almost like a zombie from horror movies. Karl raised his rifle. Whatever they were, they were hostile and his team's protection was priority one.
"I'm deeming this group to be hostile. Everyone, get ready to fire. Small arms only. Take out the ones in front and work your way back."
Karl squeezed the trigger once, sending a bullet right into the chest of his target. The grey runner stumbled back from the force of the bullet but kept running. Karl hit him with another two rounds, center mass. Again the grey runner kept running. Karl raised his rifle a bit higher, sending a fourth round into the head. The bullet passed through it's skull, dropping it like a rock. A little part of Karl was upset that he knew to do this from watching those horror movies. 
"Forget center mass, aim for the head!"


Behind the group, the sound of gunfire made the two locals stop running, both turning around to look at Karl and his group.