He tilted his head, looking Jess straight in the eyes. "You'd only need to put a blockade around the lower floors. I have yet to see a zombie climb." A sigh of resignment escaped him. "Well, whatever. We'd need a fire anyway, but that could compromise the meds." He shrugged, following her upstairs. "I don't know why you're looking at me like that. It's a perfectly executable plan. Just put some petroleum here and there, a little lighter fluid..." he shook his head. "Agh, sorry. Bit of a pyro." When he reached the top, he checked the blinds. Something didn't seem right. The zombies would've heard the screaming. The tripwires would've been activated by now.<br/><br/>A chilling thought came to mind, and he quickly voiced it. "Do you think it's possible the undead bastards might have developed a thought process? I mean, viruses mutate to better suit their environments." He shuddered as his mind wandered. "They could be mutating. Getting stronger." He sighed, looking at his knives. "I wonder how people would fare if these things could run? Or even come up with a strategy."