Oh man I'm tired…well, I think it's Saturday morning?
Anne groggily wipes her eyes as she loads her small amount of luggage into the trunk of the car in front of her. Jotaro has his legs kicked up on the dashboard in the front passenger seat, taking a long drag of his cigarette.
"Hey, Jotaro, why can't I sit up front?" Anne finally focuses in on the car as she speaks. It's a sleek red convertible, a sports model at that. Very nice, and more than likely very expensive.
"You're a kid."
"And you're in high school."
"I don't need a booster seat."
"Jotaro!" Anne slams the trunk down and starts to march up to the front passenger door, but she hears a voice call out behind her before she gets there.
"Hey now, kiddies. No fighting before the road trip starts!" Joseph walks out of the front door of the hotel, with a full grin. He stands there, smiling, as if trying to indicate something. Anne stares at him with exhausted eyes, not quite getting what could be different. Jotaro, however, speaks up without even turning, his eyes on the side mirror.
"That shirt is ridiculous…you really are an old man."
"Whoa, Jotaro, didn't take you to be a cranky morning person!" Joseph whistles, unperturbed, as he hops over the door to the driver's seat. Finally realizing it, Anne notices that Joseph has purchased a particular article of clothing, probably from a tourist shop that tempted the Englishman with a good deal and compliments.
The shirt was a button up Hawaiian shirt, complete with blue and green designs of palm trees.
"Joseph, that is the tackiest thing I have ever seen anyone wear, ever."
"You, too, Anne? And here I thought you had good taste, seeing as you have a crush on my grandson!" Joseph turns and sticks out his tongue at the end of his sentence.
Oh. He's dead. Gonna kill me a time traveler.
Anne makes a mighty leap over the back passenger door, reaching for her back pocket switchblade as she does.
"Joseph, I swear to GOD!" As soon as she lands, however, she hears the ignition start up.
"Nuh uh, you're a kid. No swearing at all!" The sound of squealing rubber fills Anne's ears as she tumbles around in the backseat of the convertible.
God damn son of a bitch how dare he
The car jets off, swerving its way through the New Delhi streets in the early hours of the morning. The city lights gleam hopefully off of the shining red convertible, with the rising sun chasing behind them as they head west.
Stepping off an airplane, Karachi I think?
Oh god. An airport, really? I didn't think that hag knew what an airplane was. Why the hell are we meeting here?
Hol Horse steps out into the terminal, a handful of receipts in his grip. He thumbs through them as a sinking feeling seeps through his body.
Ugh, not only did that horse caretaker overcharge me, that old hag didn't even pay for the damn flight here. This better work. I'd rather have rode in then fly here…
He takes a few steps past the waiting crowd of family members at the arrival gate, making his way outside to the taxi strip. A large building looms in front of him to the right, in the middle of the access roads leading out to the city proper. A sign above him reads "Jinnah International Airport", with other languages written above and below it.
"Meet in the mosque…" Hol Horse scratches his chin, then looks around to scan his surroundings. His eyes scan each building, business, and sign he can see. He finally snaps his finger in recognition, before speaking aloud to himself again. "I have no idea what the hell a mosque is."
"Hey, cowboy." A taxi driver looks at him nonplussed, speaking serviceable English. The man appeared to be a local, clean shaven with dark skin and dark brown hair. The noon sun bakes down on them both, as Hol Horse looks rather embarrassedly towards the listening local.
"Uh, howdy."
"A mosque is where us Muslims pray. If you're looking for the airport mosque, it's that big building over there." He points at the large building ahead and to the right of them. "I can give you a lift."
"Is that lift free?"
"No."
"I'll walk, then."
"Alright, American cowboy." The driver then opens his taxi door and leans on it, tilting his head up to look at the passing planes overhead. Hol Horse takes a few steps out into the sun from under the taxi canopy, before feeling the full intensity of the heat beam down on the back of his neck.
Goddammit, went from a stuffy plane with cheap seats to the goddamn Asian sun cooking me alive. I'm broke, dammit. Gotta hurry up and kill these Joestar idiots and get paid…
"Alright, alright. Five American dollars."
"Ten, cowboy."
"Ten? I could walk there in five minutes!"
"Then walk. Gas isn't cheap."
"Ugh, fine." Hol Horse scrounges his pockets, before fishing out a wrinkled ten dollar bill.
"Appreciated." The taxi driver snatches the bill and quickly slides into the driver seat. Hol Horse begrudgingly opens the rear door and takes a seat.
Goddamn airports. This is why I still ride a horse.
The taxi driver adjusts the mirror, getting a good look at his new passenger. Hol Horse shuffles uncomfortably in the stuffy taxi cab as the ignition starts. A blast of lukewarm air assaults him as he struggles with the blazing hot seatbelt buckle.
"So, cowboy. Where are you from? And your name?" The man's tone is slick and taunting, sending a shiver down his spine. Probably hates blond hair cowboys.
"Name's Hol Horse. Good ole 'merica. I'd ask the same of you, but you charged me ten bucks for a half a mile drive." Hol Horse sneers and props up his arm to look out the window, only to pull it back as his elbow burns on the metal edging of the car window.
"Haha. Very funny. You must not go to a lot of airports."
"No. Meeting an old lady about a job."
"Oh, interesting." Before Hol Horse can really register it, they were pulled up to the mosque already. The driver looks at Hol Horse through the rear view mirror again, with devilish eyes. "It was a pleasure to serve you, Mr. Horse."
"Yeah yeah." Hol Horse fumbles with the still hot buckle, cursing silently each time his fingers touch the hot metal.
"My name is Steely Dan, and good luck with your business deal." The driver gets out and opens the door for the cowboy, with Hol Horse stumbling out while gritting his teeth.
"You talk too much."
"So do you. Now run along. I'm sure she's got quite the job for you." The taxi driver laughs as he slams the door behind him, driving back to the airport terminal not a second later.
"What a weirdo…" As Hol Horse takes a few steps towards the mosque door, he notices the sun is no longer as hot as before. Looking up, he notices a dense fog has formed above him, the light slowly draining as the gas chokes the brightness from the area.
Now that's odd…
He squints at the haze above him and follows a few thin wisps down all the way to the open windows and cracks in the mosque in front of him. With a cocked eyebrow, he reaches for the mosque door, his hand only slightly trembling. As it swings open, he's greeted by the stench of blood. Before he can raise a hand to block the scent, though, he hears a familiar voice cackle from within.
"Oh, Hol Horse. I see you didn't fail to show up. I hope you don't have to run anywhere."
Ah hell.
From behind the door frame, a hand reaches out and stabs a small pocket knife right into Hol Horse's left hand, while another pulls him into the mosque. As he tumbles to the ground, he sees the sunlight go fully dark as the fog envelops the mosque entirely. The gas seems to coalesce into the fresh wound in his hand and expanding it into a perfectly circular hole.
"Okay, Enya, I can explain-"
"No! There's no excuse for failing Master DIO like you have! I will be enacting Justice on these foolish Joestars. With or without your consent to stay and fight." The old, hunched figure of a woman looms over the prone Hol Horse, her feathered headdress swaying as she walks. She plants her walking stick directly through the round, unbleeding hole in Hol Horse's hand, with two figures flanking her on each side.
Well, I'm sure this plan will work out great. In every way except I'll be very, VERY dead.
The two figures lean down and grab each of Hol Horse's shoulders. They appear to be some recently killed religious figures of some description, with various round holes bored into multiple parts of their body. The fog rolls through the wounds, puppeting them like marionettes. Enya lifts her walking stick and the two deceased puppets hoist Hol Horse against the wall.
"Now, if you do well this time, I won't have you killed, Hol Horse. Your Emperor is far too valuable an asset to DIO. But if you try to run…" She retrieves a small penknife from her outfit and tosses it up and down in her hands. "I'll make sure your body is put to good use."
The sound of a cackling old hag echoes throughout the mosque, the sky outside turning a sickening gray from the overflowing fog. The sounds of a screaming cowboy can be heard, muffled, before it peters out into the din of the airport crowd screaming for dear life.
On the road to Karachi, 1988
"Alright, so, Anne. Do you suck less at breathing?" Joseph almost has to shout to fight against the wind as they drive.
"Shut up, Jojo! It's been like, 3 days!" Anne screams to be heard, smacking Joseph's broad shoulder from behind in frustration.
"Listen, if you run into a zombie, just Zoom Punch it. It's easy. I always lead with it." Joseph glances over at Jotaro. The dark clad teenager still had his legs propped up, but his hat was pulled down over his eyes. They had been driving for almost 12 hours now, with Joseph drilling Anne on breathing exercises as they blasted down the Indian roads.
Hm…if he's asleep, I might be able to push this baby into overdrive. The future is great! Cars never went flying like this!
Joseph revs the engine harder, feeling the speed rush through him. Anne smacks him again as she yells.
"You never taught me Zoom Punch!"
"Just dislocate your shoulder and shout Zoom Punch. It's easy, just do it!" Joseph shouts back, as he catches another glance at Jotaro.
Definitely asleep. Time to really crank this thing up!
Joseph mashes on the pedal, sending Anne tumbling back into the back seat. He could hear her swear in a multitude of languages before she sits back up and yells more.
"Who the hell let you drive?"
"I mean, I'm the only legal adult here."
"Oh god…" Anne sinks back down in the seat, the realization dawning on her.
Not that I have papers to prove it right now. For all the world knows, I'm a 68 year old man. But I have to say, I look pretty good.
Joseph gives himself a smile and thumbs up in the rearview mirror as the setting sun gleams in front of them. They should be there in another 8 hours.
"Get some sleep, Anne!" Joseph shouts again, casting a tender smile over to Jotaro's sleeping form as he glances at him.
"I can't, you maniac!"
"Better try." Joseph's smile fades as he focuses on the wheel. "I have a feeling we're going to have company." He puts his right hand on the car's radio, turning the volume back up. The sounds of heavy metal crash out of the car's speakers, having been quiet for the last few hours since they had listened to all of their tapes a couple of times each.
"Hey, my song! Keep it on!"
"Hold on…" Joseph extends his single purple vine from in his palm to the inside of the radio. The heavy metal turns to static as Joseph channels his thoughts into the stereo.
Karachi…Karachi…c'mon tell me something!
The static parts, with the sound of something distant fading in and out as he focuses harder. It's a familiar sound…
"Joseph, do you hear that?"
"Yeah."
"Is that-"
"Yeah. Screaming. A lot of people screaming." He withdraws his Stand, and the radio goes back to blaring Metallica.
"Jojo…is everyone gonna be okay?"
"No idea, Anne. Keep breathing." His eyes sharpen as he looks at the road in front of him, the lines blazing by as he pushes the pedal all the way down.
They've gotten bolder. I hope your plan works, me. We've come so far, we're not gonna lose now. See you there.
The suns dips over the horizon, fading slowly into night as Joseph rides swiftly under the shining stars above. Beside him, his grandson sleeps, knowing full well that danger is to come. Anne, behind him, breathes and practices punches, hoping to learn something before the danger ahead. Joseph sucks in air, gripping the steering wheel tight. Crackles of Hamon surge through his arms, ready in anticipation of what's to come.
END of CHAPTER 21