The Silver Lake Murder Gregg Matthews (i can read book club TXT) 📖

and continues to eat. A few minutes pass and the second dog finally drops. He is a little worried; he has nine darts left for five dogs. He cannot afford to miss again.

Recalibrating the sight and checking the rifle for accuracy gives him a minute to focus in on what he is doing. His mind takes him back to the number of darts he has left. There are at least five more dogs. There are nine darts left. He needs to reposition himself to get a better angle at the remaining dogs.

He begins to walk outside the perimeter of the grounds. Repositioning himself at a small group of three dogs about one hundred feet away. The three dogs are light brown with a white head, dark brown, and black and white striped. The three dogs are standing over by one of the trailer homes. He can see the large doghouse has two more dogs moving in and out of it. He is going to focus on the group of three dogs first. Realizing he has his work cut out for him; he takes a minute to focus on his breathing.

He presses his left index and middle finger tips on his right wrist to check his pulse. He counts to himself and comes up with seventy beats per minute. He needs to slow his heart rate down; he needs to focus on his breathing. He leans into the scope and rifle. He steadies his breathing; he breathes in and exhales. He squeezes the trigger and sends the dart into the first dog and the next two. Unfortunately, he used five darts to take down the group of three dogs. He has four darts left; he needs to be careful at this point.

Reaching into his backpack, he pushes the Ball Pein Hammer to the side and pulls out a pair of bolt cutters to cut the fence. He spreads the freshly cut fence open wide. He needs to get into the area and make the next few shots count. He steps in through the freshly cut fence.

“Stay here, Billy. Wait for my all-clear signal.”

“Okay, Blake.”

Moving in closer to the doghouse, he sees the two remaining dogs and quickly takes them down with three darts. He has one dart left but is happy he has taken out seven dogs. He doesn’t hear any more dogs barking, so again he thinks he is all clear. He thinks the doghouse is all clear, and walks up to it to make sure. Walking around a few different trailers, he sees no people and no dogs. The people are at the party on Little Rock Island and the dogs are all out cold. The dose of benzodiazepine will keep the dogs down for one or two hours. He and Billy will have enough time to get in and get the money.

Blake walks hurriedly back to the section of fence he cut where Billy is waiting. He is about two hundred feet from the hole in the fence and Billy. He needs to walk across some open ground and is confident no one is here. As he walks towards the cut in the fence, he has the feeling someone is sneaking up on him but thinks his mind is playing tricks on him. The quiet night could not have gone any better.

He feels the force of being knocked over but cannot understand what is going on. His right arm has something clamped down hard on it. His left leg has the same type of clamp on it as well. His right arm is being pulled in one direction and his left leg is being pulled in the opposite direction. The pain in his arm and leg is reaching its peak. Not sure what is going on, he wonders if his mind is playing tricks on him, on the hot summer night. It cannot be a dog. I didn’t hear any barking.

Quickly he realizes he is being attacked by two silent Pitbull dogs. He remembers Kevin told him sometimes the owners of guard dogs cut the vocal cords of the dogs. This way you cannot hear the dogs coming. He realizes he is in the fight of his life; his survival skills are being put to the test. Does he have the strength and skills to survive the attack of two Pitbull’s at the same time? He has no choice—he must accept this challenge if he wants to survive the night.

Remembering a Pitbull’s jaw is capable of delivering up to two thousand six hundred pounds per square inch of pressure, he knows he cannot overpower this statistic. The first thing he does with his left hand is reach into the backpack and check to make sure, the remaining benzodiazepine dart is there. Thinking the dog on his right arm is closer than the dog on his left leg, he curls his right arm up and pulls the dog in closer. He swings his left arm as hard as he can and punches the dog clamped down on his right forearm. The test worked; the dog is in reach to receive the dart. The other dog’s jaw is on the meaty part of his leg; he doesn’t feel like his leg is broken. When the dog on his right arm pulls, his body moves about two feet. When the dog on his left leg pulls, his body moves two feet in the opposite direction. He does the best he can to control his breathing and focus in on one dog at a time.

He swings his left arm a couple of more times. He reaches into the backpack, and pulls out the remaining dart. He grips the dart tightly and swings his left arm, and sinks the dart deep into the neck of the dog clamped down on his right arm. At first, he doesn’t feel any relief from the jaw of the dog on his right arm. A minute or two passes, and he can feel the sweet release of