Re: Campbells.
Outside of the doors, Ford paused, tense, looking around for any still forms in the dawn. There was nothing out there, abandoned quiet, and to Ford there was very little difference between "school's out for summer" and "everyone's dead." Not exactly reassured but trusting that Russell would have noticed the dead walking, Ford picked up his pace again and followed Russell to the road.
Feeling exposed, Ford kept watching the treeline, wishing he had a decent weapon. He held on to the backpack like his life was in it, and that was because it was.
Belatedly, Ford looked back at Russell. He shook his head slowly, but then he brought a hand up against his neck and clutched at the air around it, miming death by crushing. It seemed unlikely, looked ridiculous, but Ford's face had no humor. He slowly put a fist out to one side of his face and, in exaggerated slow motion, brought it toward his temple. Lights out.