Ivan got a text from Max on his phone: "Who is this?" Ivan looked at Max, sitting next to him on the tailgate. He typed back, "Three Six Mafia. You never heard of?" Max typed back, "Even with these earplugs, I hear."
Ivan checked his watch: it had been two minutes since they put Leo in the crawlspace under the house. The crawlspace had all the earmarks for an ideal intimidation procedure: it worked quickly, psychologically, and left no marks. The recipient was taken to a remote housing development, dragged into a half-finished house, and thrown into a dark hole for two to three minutes next to a corpse, then dragged out and repeated until the recipient did or said whatever the guys wanted. Effective, but the routine was becoming annoying. They were given earplugs for the whining, but Ivan preferred to crank up some music. Leo was a particularly loud victim, despite all efforts to ignore.
Ivan turned the music off, and directed Max to remove his plugs. Cupping his ears, he texted, "Do you hear anything?"
Max concentrated. Past the dull roar, he began to hear the crickets and the hum of the streetlights... He nodded as the sounds came into focus. And he smiled at what he didn't hear: Leo. "So, we can go home?"
"Let me out! Let me out!" Leo screamed. Ivan and Max dragged Leo out of the crawlspace. He was still tied up, muddier now, and convulsing. "Something bit me!"
"You mean, Corbin?" Max smirked.
"I'm serious! There's things crawling in my shirt!"
Ivan swatted something on his arm. "That's the bugs, cause you've been in the dirt and filth. You want to go back in? Shut up!" Leo bit his lip, holding back his winces of pain, as he was examined in the light; the bug bites on his face were obvious. Ivan shook his head. "That doesn't look good. Max, I got some spray in the car. Get it."
"P-please untie me- I'm s-so itch-ch-chy." Leo's teeth were chattering. "I- I think I saw- ccrawl out his n-nose..."
"Listen," said Ivan. "You got drunk, and fell asleep outside. These bug bites woke you up. Big laugh about it, and you go back to work, pay your debt, and never be late again."
Max, scratching his neck, brought a spray bottle of room deodorizer from the car. Ivan frowned and turned Leo on his stomach. He pulled up the shirt, exposing the back; a few pests flew off. Before Ivan could let off a first burst, Leo began to convulse and spit up.
Max started to freak out; "Do I shoot? Do I shoot?" and started to point his gun toward Leo and Ivan. Ivan picked up Leo by the scalp and slammed his face into the rocky ground; the twitching stopped. Then while Max was still in shock, Ivan stood up and slapped the gun out of his hand. "Get in the car!"
Ivan and Max exited the cul-de-sac without Leo. Max was flailing, slapping the dashboard, and wringing his hands. "What do we do? We got no Leo, no money- what are we gonna tell him?"
"Shut up and let me think!" Ivan barked. Max shrunk in his seat, scratching at his neck again. Ivan saw something black between Max's scratching fingers; he asked Max, "How long was he in the hole?"
Ivan scratched his arm again.
inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Lyme Disease Ten Times More Prevalent than Thought"
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