Unfortunately for John, Numbers is home. And unfortunately, his reaction to an unknown scream inside of his residence is to assume that someone has broken in. Which doesn't really make entire sense, given that a scream would indicate someone in distress--but given the last few encounters with the HOA and the authority in this town, he's more than paranoid at this point that this is some drummed up way to lure him into a compromising position.

He's in his own room, getting dressed, when he hears it--the shrill noise coming from a part of the house he rarely ventures into. It's not like he has reason to use the rooms he doesn't care about. He grabs his gun holds it towards the ground--hey, you never know what'll happen. He cautiously peers towards the closed door at the end of the carpeted hallway. He doesn't approach right away. He wants to catch whoever this is in the act of...doing whatever it is they plan on doing. If this is just some sort of trap for Numbers.

But, ultimately, the door opens and a teenager stumbles out. Numbers blinks. What the hell? He steps forward to intercept him, still holding his gun at length.

"Who the fuck are you? What the hell are you doing in my house?!"

His house. What a weird thing to say.