Things that Go Bump in the Night

Chapter 50: Part 2: Strong Words

An update? From this story? Crazier things have happened my friends! Without further adieu, please enjoy the next part. 

Chapter: Part 2: Strong Words:

"There is movement on the screen."

Upon hearing my outburst, John merely grunted in acknowledgment, the sound of his fingers tapping against his keyboard not evening slowing down. I lifted my gaze from the pressure plate monitor to stare at him in accusation. This was the first time since I had started obsessively watching the pressure plate monitors that there was any activity and John was acting like it was an afterthought.

"John" I called to him, only receiving a half interested humming of his vocal chords in response. "There is something triggering the pressure plates. I think it could be my-" I started, my voice rising as I spoke.

"It's a rabbit." John interrupted.

His voice was a tired monotone as he continued his seemingly endless data analysis. His gaze never left the screen in front of him. While I was always impressed by his intense focus to his research, his lack of interest to my questions while he was thinking always made a coil of irritation tighten my gut. It wouldn't kill him to at least act interested in the thing that was giving me endless anxiety.

Where were the others? When would they be here? Why were they not here already?

It had been about three weeks since John had spoken to me about his past. During this time, I had adapted to John's regimented rhythm. It became painfully obvious after my first three days, that John was a man of cemented patterns and order. His day was ruled by a strict time allotted "to do" list; which included everything from eating breakfast to calibrating the compound's water condenser. He rehearsed evacuation drills every morning and checked all emergency supplies twice daily. At the current time he was completing his three hours of designated research time. While John welcomed my help with many of the compound maintenance, his research really seemed to be a solo obsession. Therefore, I spent at least three hours every day staring at the pressure plates while he worked.

"How can you tell? You didn't even look?" I grumbled, irked with him. His 'eyes in the back of my head' talent was really starting to grate on my nerves.

"Is it a small amount of activity in the northwest quadrant?" he asked robotically. I switched my focus back to the monitor, finding the location of the signal. My eyes narrowed at I turned back to reply to him.

"Yes?" The upswing of the question, holding an edge of derision.

"Does the pop up in the corner of the screen say, Rabbit?"

My eyes widened before clocking the notification that he had just pointed out.

"Yes." I mumbled, already hating what his response was going to be to my statement.

"Then it is a rabbit. There is a burrow there and I can't get them to leave." He explained. My brow furrowed in frustration at the signal that was apparently still playing on the screen.

"How does the computer decide it is a rabbit?" I asked, curiosity peaking.

"The monitor is programmed with predictive algorithms based on expected velocity, direction and pattern of disruption. Wildlife very rarely travel in straight lines, there is usually some organic movement in their pressure plate pattern. Werewolves and people however usually travel linearly, thus are easy to distinguish."

"Did you program the algorithms that run the pressure plates?" I asked, sensing that his trust in the machine ran deeper than something produced in a factory. He looked up from his work at the question, a grim smile on his face.