The Silver Lake Murder

by Gregg Matthews

  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 the dog’s jaw on his right arm. He can see the look in the dog’s eyes when he realizes he is about to pass out. The dog on his right arm drops to the ground. The sense of relief is overwhelming. Both arms and hands are free.

  The tugging at his left leg continues. His body moves two feet every time the dog pulls on his left leg. The pressure of the dog’s jaw on his left leg is by far the most physical pain he has ever felt. The dog’s jaw is locked on his left calf muscle. He reaches into the backpack and checks to make sure the Ball Pein Hammer is there. The hammer weighs about three pounds. It’s the best he can do on short notice. Taking the hammer out, he knows his best chance is to strike down as hard as he can on the head of the dog. He struggles to pull his leg with the attached dog closer to his body. He curls his leg up using as much strength as he can muster. Deciding to use his right arm to swing the hammer to get the biggest impact on the dog’s head. He takes a couple of practice swings. As he does, he can see the dog looking up, flinching a little. Maneuvering his body as best he can, he realizes this is going to take multiple swings, and he needs to keep his grip on the hammer. Keep your cool. You do not want to over swing and loose the hammer.

  Taking the hammer in his right hand, he squeezes the handle as tight as he can, sending pain up and down his right arm. The pain in his leg is overwhelming. He feels the weight of the hammer and imagines the weight to be more than it really is. He focuses on what he is about to do.

  The plan is to swing this hammer into the head of the dog as many ties as he can. He takes a minute and starts to count, one, two, and three. He swings the hammer down into the head of the dog. He does it again and again; he has swung the hammer ten or more times and can see the blood coming from the dog’s head. Finally, feeling the release of pressure from the dogs clamped jaw on his left leg, he is relieved but knows he has more work to do.

  With both arms and legs free, he maneuvers his body to hold the dog by the throat. Using his left forearm as leverage, he presses it against the dogs’ throat. The hammer starts to swing again, making contact with the dogs’ head. The blood from the dog is being thrown into the air and settling back down in the ground and on him and the dog. He can feel the strength in the dog has faded from his body. He pushes the dog away from him and tries to stand up.

  Making quick work with his T-shirt, he quickly addresses the wound on his arm. He carries the rifle and the backpack towards the hole in the fence. Hoping that was the last dog, he cannot help but check his back every few seconds. Stepping through the hole he takes a minute to patch the hole in the fence in case there are more dogs. Looking back at the trailer park, he is confident it is secured. He and Billy can walk freely on the grounds.They can do what they have to do.

  “You OK Blake?” Billy says, addressing the wound on his leg.

  “Yes, there were two silent Pitbull’s,” Blake says in pain.

  “I was not close enough to see what was happening.”

  “It’s okay, Billy.”

  He and Billy quickly patch him up and prepare to enter the park again.

  CHAPTER 21

  The dim floodlights and fencing give the park an eerie look. Looks more like a prison camp than a trailer park. Blake looks around the grounds trying to get his bearings. The fence goes around the perimeter of the grounds. He sees the trailers; he counts about eleven of them. He sees the
large doghouse in the middle. There are no people or dogs. He does not hear any barking. Blake and Billy move as fast as they can through the hole in the fence with empty backpacks over their shoulders.

  Looking at Billy, Blake points to the five dogs lying unconscious on the ground. One of the dogs is beaten and bloodied from the hammer. The other four are unconscious from the darts.

  Walking forward, he approaches one of the dogs. He looks down at the dog and sees he is breathing. Pointing to the dog and looking back at Billy. He wants to make sure Billy sees the unconscious dog and doesn’t disturb him.

  Walking quietly, he starts to explore the grounds to see what is going on. He thinks any people who are normally here must be at the party on Little Rock Island. He walks around the empty trailers with Billy following him. Looking into the windows and doors there is no sign of anyone.

  “This place is empty, Billy,” Blake whispers.

  “I know Blake, no one is here,” Billy whispers back.

  There is a shed off to the side of one on the trailers. He walks quickly towards it and pulls open the doubldoors. The shed is full of tools, sledgehammers, axes, saws, and chainsaws.

  “Jackpot Billy,” Blake whispers.

  “Cool,” Billy whispers.

  The doghouse in the middle of the grounds is roughly six feet high and twenty feet by twenty feet. The doghouse is old and falling apart. Grabbing handfuls of tools from the shed, he quickly walks to the doghouse with Billy following him.

  “Let’s take a look at how this is built and start dismantling it as fast as we can. I think Luke’s money is under the doghouse. Luke confirmed this to me, from the trunk of my car,” Blake whispers.

  “OK,” Billy whispers.

  Before the first swing of the sledgehammer, he and Billy both hear something behind them. He and Billy turn and look to see a man stepping out of a small building the size of a shed. He has a newspaper in his hands and is pulling up the zipper on his pants. He sees Blake and Billy looking at him, he struggles to latch the belt holding his pants up. Quickly he turns to say something to Billy, but Billy is not there. Blake grabs a shovel and runs straight at the man buckling his pants. He raises the shovel preparing to strike.

  The man drops to his knees before he can swing the shovel at him. Standing behind the man is Billy with a shovel already swung.

  “Nice job, Billy.”

  “Thanks, Blake,” Billy says proudly.

  “Let’s get back to work.”

  “Okay.”

  Swinging the sledgehammer at the main support beam a couple of times lets him know the doghouse is well built. Two sledgehammers are swinging at the same time. He and Billy are both working up a sweat. After fifteen minutes the doghouse starts to give way, so the sledgehammer swinging stops. From the outside of the doghouse, he pushes as hard as he can, with Billy jumping in, pushing in the same direction. The doghouse falls over to the ground. He and Billy quickly remove as much material as they can, so a good part of the floor is showing. They start to work on removing the floor of the doghouse to get to the money they think is underneath it. Sledgehammers and axes are swung over and over at the floor until the material gives way.

  Pulling up the flooring as fast as he can, handing Billy pieces of wood is creating a large pile next to the doghouse. The shovel meets the dirt and he digs around the area under the doghouse as fast as he can.

  “Nothing,” Blake shouts up to Billy.

  “Nothing?” Billy says to the ground.

  Extended his right hand, Billy pulls him up.

  “Thanks Billy.”

  “Okay, Blake.”

  Watching as Billy turns his head sideways in an awkward position, he wonders what is going on. He sees Billy is focused to a point in the opposite direction.

  “Blake!” Billy shouts.

  “What?” Blake shouts back.

  “Look over there—another doghouse.”

  “What?” Blake says, maneuvering his head in the same position.

  “See it?” Billy says, pointing to the back of the trailer park.

  “I see it now,” Blake says, walking straight at the second doghouse with a sledgehammer over one shoulder and an axe over the other shoulder.

  Marching over to the second doghouse as fast as he can, realizing this is taking longer than he anticipated. This doghouse is half the size but is much more solid. The construction is new. Walking around the doghouse a couple of times, he sizes up what he is up against. He takes the sledgehammer and begins to swing it at one of the corners. He takes roughly ten swings and motions for Billy to take a turn. This continues for a while until the structure of the doghouse starts to give way. When it does, the sledgehammer swinging stops.

  From the outside of the doghouse, he pushes as hard as he can, with Billy jumping in again, pushing in the same direction. The doghouse falls over to the ground. He and Billy quickly remove as much material as they can, so a good part of the floor is showing. They start to work on removing the floor of the doghouse to get to the money underneath. Sledgehammers and axes are swung over and over at the floor until the material gives way.

  Blake starts pulling up the flooring as fast as he can, handing Billy pieces of wood is creating a large pile next to the doghouse. The shovel meets the dirt and he digs around the area under the doghouse as fast as he can.

  “There is a locked metal container!” Blake shouts up to Billy.

  “Open it,” Billy says, handing Blake a pair of bolt cutters.

  Crack, the sound of the bolt cutters cutting into the lock on the metal container. Opening the lid, he is taken aback. The container is full of cash bills, reaching in he

  moves the money aside, getting to the bottom of the container. He pulls out a fist full of gold coins. Showing it to Billy makes him smile for the first time in a long time.

  “Throw me the two backpacks.”

  “Okay, Blake,” Billy says, running back to the first doghouse, quickly retrieving them.

  Reaching up, he catches the two backpacks one at a time as Billy tosses them to him. Using his right hand, he reaches into the container and pulls out the gold coins first. The backpacks have an equal amount of coins in them; he estimates twenty percent of each backpack is filled with gold coins. He looks for the larger bills first, one-hundred-dollar bills and fifty and twenties fill the rest of the two backpacks.

  “Blake, problem,” Billy says.

  Stepping out from under the second doghouse Blake looks to the main entrance to the Park. He can see a couple of cars with their headlights, driving in their direction.

  “Let’s move, Billy,” Blake shouts.

  “Okay.”

  Putting the backpacks on and strapping them to their backs properly will help them move faster than having the backpack over one shoulder. He estimates each backpack to weigh fifteen to twenty pounds. They take a minute to check each other’s backpacks are properly secured. He and Billy move away from the second doghouse and across the open field of the park. He looks back at the hole in the ground with a trail of money and gold coins coming out of it. Watching as the two sets of car headlights enter the trailer park make them both move faster.

  “Get to the hole in the fence Billy,” Blake says.

  “Okay, Blake.”

  The sound of two cars’ carburetors opening up taking more fuel in makes him move faster. Looking back, he can see the two cars are at the trailers. A few men quickly get out, noticing someone has been here. He and Billy step back through the hole in the fence. Quickly walking through the woods is more difficult with the weight of the backpack. He and Billy need to get back to Cripple Cove as fast as they can. Fighting his way through the woods, breathing heavily, he realizes he needs to take a break.

  “Come on, Billy,” Blake shouts, knowing he has pushed Billy hard tonight.

  “Okay, Blake,” Billy softly shouts.

  Taking a knee, he needs to catch his breath, Billy takes a knee next to him. Themosquitos quickly make their presence known. Pers
piration is at its peak on both of them. The cuts and scratches from the tree branches scraping across his skin are burning and itching. He dismounts the backpack, giving his back a rest. He watches as Billy does the same. Looking around the woods at night, he cannot determine where they are. Off in the distance, he sees a couple of stray sky rockets racing across the sky. He assumes the rockets are coming from Little Rock Island.

  “Okay, Billy.”

  “Okay, Blake.”

  He and Billy stand up and hold the backpack in their right hands. He can see Billy is struggling to hold his backpack, he will not make it back to Cripple Cove carrying the backpack. He reaches over and takes the backpack from Billy. He is holding a backpack in each of his hands. He motions for Billy to take the Long-Range Tranquilizer Rifle and black backpack, and he does.

  “You sure, Blake?”

  “Let’s move.”

  He and Billy begin to walk hurriedly in the direction of Cripple Cove.

  CHAPTER 22

  Looking through the woods, Blake can see his car and Cripple Cove. Looking back, he can see Billy has fallen behind but walking in the right direction. His smartphone reads 2:37 a.m., he keeps moving. The scratching on his face and arms from the branches is burning and itching from the sweat coming off his body. The mosquitoes buzzing around his ears, nose, and mouth are driving him crazy.

  “Come on, Billy,” Blake shouts.

  “I’m coming,” Billy shouts.

  The dirt road of Backside Lane is a welcomed sight. He keeps walking until his feet hit the dirt road. Seeing his car parked on the side of the road is a welcome sight. He was worried about what is in the trunk.

  The moon is hanging over the lake, providing enough light for him to walk over to Kevin. The glow from the fires on Little Rock Island makes him think everything is OK. Stopping at the trunk, he knocks a couple of times and hears the desperate moaning coming from Luke. He can hear Luke pleading into the quiet night.