Dead Legends (Book 1): R.I.P. Van Winkle by Joseph Coley Page A

in light of the welfare of his men. He wanted to see them through as long as his body would let him, and it hadn’t failed him yet.
    Giving grim news had always been part of his job description. It was something he never relished doing, but realized the necessity. Closure was essential and most men wouldn’t stop until they got it in one form or another.
    Rip was one of those men.
    “Crane has him, but I don’t know where,” Patterson said solemnly. “I suppose you’re gonna run off and look for him, and I don’t blame you.”
    Rip stood, his aching body not wanting to work for him. “You’re damn right I want to go, sir.”
    Colonel Patterson’s demeanor changed, became lighter. “Well, then I have some good news for you, sergeant.”
    Rip cocked an eyebrow.
    Good news? This fucker has a screw loose.
    Without a word, Patterson motioned for Rip to follow him into the main part of the bar. Rip slowly ambled his way off the cot and towards the door. What he saw there truly shocked him. Patterson entered the room, and someone called the room to attention.
    Rip came out from behind of the timeworn colonel, rubbing his aching ribs. He found himself speechless for the second time in less than a week; this was a new record for him.
    The room was full of men. Colonel Patterson’s Knights stood in the front, blocking the view of a dozen or so others. As the Knights parted, he could make out a few of the faces in the crowd. The other men wore black trench coats and skullcaps, and a red flag went up in Rip’s mind.
    They were Crane’s Marshals, at least the ones that hadn’t dragged his son off to God knows where.
    Rip’s brow furrowed. “What the fuck is all this?”
    One of the Marshals stepped through the crowd and spoke.
    “The Knights were helping us with the Horseman and his goddamned zombies when we saw Crane knock you and Jeff of that horse. Crane was gonna kill you, sergeant—you and your boy. We may not agree with the Knights on everything, but we damn sure don’t kill the innocent.”
    “Well, that’s mighty fuckin’ nice of you, Marshal. You mind telling me how this figures in with me?”
    The lone Marshal shuffled nervously. “We want to help you, if you’ll have us. We know where Crane is headed, but we don’t know what he’ll do to your boy. We may not be able to go with you, but we have plenty of supplies and gear to help.”
    Rip’s pulse quickened. If Crane’s own men didn’t know what was going to go down, then it couldn’t be good. Something secret, something sinister was going to take place.
    “So tell me. Where is he going with my son?”
    “It’s a town about three hundred miles south of here. We’ve heard weird stories about the Horseman that have to do with that place.”
    Rip’s pulse was hammering in his chest now. Crane and the Horseman in cahoots—that couldn’t be a good sign.
    “What’s the name of the town?”
    “Sleepy Hollow. The town is Sleepy Hollow, New York.”

CHAPTER 13
     
    The men that sat around the table made up the leadership at Fort Drum, or at least what was left of it. The departure of Marshal Crane left a huge void in the leadership of the Marshals, a spot that Rip was more than capable and prepared to take. While the change of power was not unanimous, there were plenty of defectors from Crane’s camp. Crane himself had managed to take only six of his most loyal men with him to Sleepy Hollow, leaving more than a dozen leftovers at Rip’s disposal. He had use for their talents and planned to make sure those talents were put to good use.
    Two of the men from the Marshals were Crane’s lieutenants. Both men had served in the regular Army back in the day, just not with Rip and the Tenth Mountain. Rip wasn’t ready to put his full trust in them just yet, but he didn’t have a choice whether they would be utilized. He needed men, and he needed plenty. Taking on the Horseman in his own territory was not something he could draw plans for. Add Crane