Jason had suggested that it was in their little group's best interest of survival to stick together, specially if any of them was intending to trudge through the city. Mark was anxious, he could no longer bear the burden of not knowing what happened to his wife. He clutched his wrench and went down the elevator shaft, squeezing and struggling himself in. 

Jason and Rachel were down in the kitchen looking for food, Mark looked at them, young kids, hungry, trying to survive in a world pitted against them. A world evolved into a place that has sixty ways of killing you in less than sixty minutes. 

Mark raised his voice as he told the two that he had cleared the kitchen the other night when he was desperately looking for water. He walked out of the counter and slowly inspected behind the windows, there were three to four walkers roaming around in the front, just zoning out, doing absolutely nothing but wait for time to slowly decay the flesh off of them. 

Mark walked back to the counter and insisted that if they should stick together, then they should go now, because he was starting to get impatient with the idea that his wife might be out there, or not, 

"Please, wake up your friend, let's head out to the mall as soon as possible and not a minute later."