Standing at the busted out window, Woods stared down at the shambling corpses that tried to gain access to him, but it was a vertical climb, followed by roof attached to the building that curved downwards. The barbed wire and lack of stability of the roof made it all that much harder to gain access to the building through this particular way. Pushing against the mesh that now covered the empty space that was the window, he narrowed his eyes slightly, catching a glimpse at one of the girls he thought used to sell him coffee. A pathetic existence, but still, ending her life out of sympathy would not make his own any better, now or in the unforeseeable future.<br/><br/>Woods had taken up home in one of the Mall's administration offices. The large desk had been moved out to make in to protective barriers, but the couch had been converted in to a bed. It was broken in to two rooms, the secretary's office, and the administrators. The Admin room now served as a bedroom, and the secretary as more of a lounge room. The safe held a few things that Woods didn't want to share with the group, though nothing vital like rations or clean water. Just personal things. Besides the lock, it was wrapped in chains that were locked together with a padlock, and placed in the corner of the room, past the bed.<br/><br/>Slowly, he walked back through the two rooms, and out on to the pathway, leaning against the railing and looking down at the ground floor. He had chosen the third floor, since it was high enough the zombies couldn't just climb through a window, but not at the top, so he could hear the screams of those being eaten above him and prepare. Not a very noble gesture, but survival was key. Most people moped about the Mall, but would never consider actually ending the misery that continued forever... Except old man Wethers, who got the courage from god knows where. Everyone seemed so keen to form plots, to escape this 'hell in a box'. They saw it as hell, but in here, was the safe haven they'd struggle to find again.