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

pilot.
    “Well, seeing as how you’ve managed to get on Marshal Crane’s radar now, maybe we should delay that trip into town,” Jake said, getting back on his horse.
    “No. Take me to see the Knights of New York.”
    “Rip, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. The Knights may be at odds with Marshal Crane, but they don’t go looking for a fight against him if they don’t have to. The Knights are sorely outnumbered, so they keep to themselves. Not to mention, your son is one of Crane’s men; I don’t know if that will sit well with the Knights.”
    Rip stuck his foot into the stirrup, hefting himself into the saddle. “Fine. Just point me in the right direction, Jake. I can find my own way.”
    Jake sat for a moment, mulling over his choices. He didn’t want to get in between the Marshal and the Knights, but he felt like if he didn’t help Rip, no one would, especially due to the sergeant’s less-than-upbeat demeanor.
    “Dammit, Rip. You’re going to get me killed, you know that?”
    “You don’t have to go with me, Jake. You’ve already done more than the average person would have. Go back home to your family; God only knows that I can’t do the same with mine.”
    Jake eased his horse around, heading towards Fort Drum. “C’mon, Rip. The least I can do is show you to Keith Patterson, he’s the Knights’ leader.”
    Rip nodded. “Lead the way, Jake.”
    After what he’d just seen, Jake was more than happy to be rid of the belligerent sergeant. There was something inside him that genuinely wanted to help, but the way Rip acted, it was difficult to sympathize with him. The man was obviously trying to come to terms with meeting his son, but it seemed that neither man wanted any kind of close connection. Jeff seemed like he was more than capable of taking care of himself, as did Rip. At least they shared that trait, because that was all they shared. The father/son bond was long gone… well, maybe not gone , but definitely on life support. Jake felt an odd mix of pity and annoyance. He decided to go with the former, trying to get inside Rip’s jumbled head.
    “You know, just in the short time I’ve known you, I have a feeling that the world ended for you a long time before the undead took it over. You want to talk about it?”
    “Not particularly. You saw for yourself; my son hates me.”
    Jake spurred his horse forward, guiding the way to Fort Drum. “I don’t think he hates you. I think you have some issues that you need to work out with him, and I think it would do you some good to apologize to him.”
    “Apologize for what, exactly? It’s not my fault that Crayon poisoned me.”
    Jake frowned. That was the first time Rip mentioned Crayon out loud since downing the flask of… whatever it was. “What are you talking about? You said you got knocked out, not that you were poisoned. What exactly do you remember, Rip?”
    “Not a whole hell of a lot. I remember it being cold,” Rip said, feigning his actual memories.
    “Anyway, you should apologize to your son. For no reason. Just let him know that you didn’t forget about him while you were asleep.”
    “I didn’t think about him; I didn’t think about anything, I guess. It all passed like a single night’s sleep, as far as I can remember.”
    “You’re missing the point. Just swallow that mammoth-size pride of yours and apologize. He won’t care what for; he will just know that you’re there for him.”
    Rip ignored the rest of Jake’s advice. What the hell did he know? He had his family, not to mention, a decent enough life outside the confines of Fort Drum. The respect and gratitude that Rip had for him began to wane. Katrina was dead and his son hated him. He’d woken up from a decade-long sleep to find out the world hadn’t done him any favors. The fact that it was overrun by the walking dead was now the least of his worries.

CHAPTER 6
     
    It only took another fifteen minutes or so of riding to reach the main gate for