Steve and Greg stood around the manhole cover, poking it with a tree branch.
“We gotta get this hatch open, Sawyer!” Steve said.
“Hurley!” Greg twanged at Arnold, a few feet away. “Give us a hand with this!”
“I told you, I’m not Hurley! I’m Loc—oh, the hell with this!”
“Your friend, Arnold, is back,” Randall’s mother called from the top of the stairs.
Arnold ambled down the stairs and plopped in front of the computer.
“What do you need me to do?” Arnold asked.