In Service to the Spider Court

Chapter 6 - The Desperate Return

The light gray painted walls of an apartment living room held only a few pictures. That was already the safety deposit gone, never mind a few tangled tufts of carpet pulled up from the floor beneath a couch practically designed to screw over tenants.

Heavy mouse clicks came from the computer desk shoved into the corner. A bulky beige monitor sat next to a dusty computer tower in beige and gray and wide plastic tray with a clear lid jammed full of floppy disks. Brian stared with glazed confusion at a flowing pump and water cascading over a cliff on the screen.

He clicked the mouse. On the screen, Guybrush moved over to the pump, looked at it, and gave the same quip that had gotten old after the fifteenth time hearing it.

"Come on, it can't be that hard." He smacked his chin lightly and leaned closer to the screen.

Senseless distorted screaming backed by crunchy guitars came from the other side of the town house. Moments later, Christie poked her head around the entrance archway to the living room.

"How's the footage looking?"

She glared at the screen as Brian floundered in his computer chair.

"For your information," Brian said, righting himself up in the chair and waggling a finger, "it's already done."

He leaned over to a VHS player hooked up to the back of the computer tower and pressed down a switch. The slot popped open to reveal a tape. At the same time, he opened the floppy disk tray and pulled out the closest one.

"Here you go. And I even dropped off my film at Dean's to be developed too. Pretty productive day, right?"

Christie grabbed both. She looked them over, poked at the corner of the label on the flash drive, then handed them back. "Fair enough," she said. She walked away toward the refrigerator, adjusting her oversized top and pulling up the back of her denim shorts.

She looked over her shoulder. "So how's the game?"

"This puzzle is making me feel stupid."

With milk in hand, Christie strolled back to the living room archway, leaned against it, and took a swig straight from the carton. "More than usual?"

"I've tried literally everything that I have. That's every item in my inventory, and the damn thing won't—"

Both of them turned on a dime as a wall-mounted phone unit let out a piercing ring. Brian pushed his chair back and rushed over before the second ring even finished.

"Heya, it's Brian. Who is it?"

Emily's voice came from the other end, distorted and crackling. "Can you come over?"

"One sec." Brian turned back to Christie with his hand over the receiver. "It's Emily. Can you hold down the fort while I head over there and see what's up?"

Christie nodded, her dark eyes flicking back to the puzzle on the computer screen in an instant.

Brian removed his hand from the receiver. "So what's up? Should I bring anything?"

Emily fell silent on the other end. When she spoke again, her voice dropped to a whisper.

"Just don't panic when you get here. I promise I'm fine, but it might be difficult to understand."

"Got it. Be there right away."

Brian hung up the phone, made a quick stop at the computer, and saved his game. He rushed over to the foyer and hastily stumbled his way into a pair of worn shoes that somehow had more rips than his jeans.

"I'll be back right away, okay?" Brian didn't even give Christie a chance to reply before he shut the door behind him.

He practically jumped down the concrete steps leading to the cracked sidewalk that parted their lawn. One quick click later, Brian pocketed the bike lock that kept his pride and joy—a fire red Colnago he'd bought and modded years ago--safe and hopped on. No time for a helmet, and it wasn't like he hadn't ridden this path countless times in high school.