Hop Pop and Anne drove the fwagon down the cliffside road, barely awake. Anne almost nodded off until Hop Pop slapped her awake with her tongue. On the other side of the fwagon, Johan was on lookout duty, though he was as tired as they were. His Stand kept him awake, but he was starting to run low on energy and he knew the moment it retreated back into his body, he would pass out. Inside the fwagon, a wide awake Polly and Sprig looked at a map of Amphibia.
"All right, Polly, check this out! According to this map, if we drive straight through the night, we'll be home by morning!"
Polly sighed happily. "Say 'home' again."
"Just think. Home for breakfast."
"Mmm! Pillbug pancakes."
"Hanging out with Ivy." Then Sprig realized what he said and quickly retorted, "Not that it's a big deal."
Suddenly, the fwagon came to an abrupt stop and Anne, Hop Pop, and Johan stumbled in. "Whoa! Where do you guys think you're going?" snapped Sprig.
"We've got a schedule to keep," said Polly.
"Guys, we've been driving nonstop for like 20 hours," groaned Anne.
"And we're all out of coffee," said Johan. "Look at these bags under my eyes! Even my bags have bags!" Anne grimaced.
"Just a little shut-eye and we'll be back on the road by morning," said Hop Pop.
"But we're so close!" said Sprig.
"Yeah! Can't you just power through one more night?" pleaded Polly. "Please, please, please? I wanna sleep in a real bed."
"I know how you guys feel, but you're not the ones who have to drive," said Anne.
"Or the ones who's on lookout duty," said Johan.
"Hey, I've got an idea," said Sprig. "Why don't you two sleep, and we can get us home!"
"Yeah! Remember how we owned Quarreler's Pass?" asked Polly.
Johan winced. "Ooh, you had to bring THAT up." He still felt guilty for ditching Sprig and Polly to fend for themselves and almost get them eaten by a two-headed blind olm.
Hop Pop chuckled. "Oh, you sweet, sweet, ignorant kids. Amphibia changes at night. And not for the better, let me tell you. The nocturnal leech flies are bad enough, but I've even heard folks tell of evil spirits wandering these parts. Real spookums and such! Haven't seen any myself, of course, but you know, could happen."
"Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm," agreed Anne.
"Plus, neither of you read Bessie's driving manual!"
"But..." Sprig tried to say.
"Forget it. You're not driving, and that's final."
"Now, if you'll excuse us," said Anne before she, Hop Pop, and Johan plopped onto the bed and went out like a light.
"This is messed up!" complained Polly as she and Sprig sat in the driver's seat. "Sure, we're young and made mistakes. But we've proven we can handle ourselves!"
"I know, right?" agreed Sprig. "What in the world could be so dangerous out there that we haven't lived through already?"
"I've been eaten eight times, Sprig. Eight. Times. I sort of look forward to it now." she whispered.
Then Sprig had an idea. "Hey, wait a sec. Hop Pop, JoJo, and Anne are asleep, right? So asleep they won't even know if we take the reins and drive us home right now! And when they wake up, they'll be so grateful to be home, they'll completely forget to be mad at us!"
Polly was all in. "Sprig, you creepy little genius! You sure they're not gonna wake up though, right?"
"Absolutely! Those three are out cold." Then he thought, "Huh. Wonder if they'll have any dreams."
Well, you'd be right, Sprig.
In Hop Pop's dream, he was in a barren landscape, surrounded by long-legged caricatures straight out of Salvador Dalí's paintings. On each of the creature's backs was a representation of Hop Pop's darkest thoughts such as heartbreak, old age, and death. "Oh, no. It's like all my stresses have physically manifested as hideous monsters! Or something." Suddenly all the creatures turned on him and he screamed. "Looks like that's it for me!"
That's when he realized his feet weren't touching the ground anymore. "Huh? I'm floatin'. Wait a second. This must be a dream. And if it's a dream, I can control it!" He zipped up and flew around the monsters' heads. "For the first time in my life, I feel free!" he shouted with glee as he tore off his shirt. "Come on, you freaks! Follow me!"
In an instant, the creatures became cute chibi versions of themselves and flew with Hop Pop.
In Anne's dream, she was in a yogurt wonderland. Yogurt of all kinds of flavors danced and played and sang around her. One of them approached her and handed her a spoon, saying, "Welcome to Yogurtropolis, ma'am. Would you like a free sample from my body?"
"Uh, sure!" But then she asked, "You guys got anything without bugs in it?"
"Bugs? Our yogurt doesn't have any bugs!"
"Did you say 'no bugs'? That is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," Anne said with tears in her eyes. "All right, little yogurt man, what flavors you got? Green tea? Caramel? Hazelnut?"
The yogurt man suddenly laughed wickedly as the sky suddenly turned black. "Oh, I'm afraid we only have one flavor here, ma'am." His eyes popped out and a black sludge poured out of his sockets and mouth.
Anne watched in horror as the entire landscape turned into the same black sludge. "What? No! No!"
"BLAAAACK LICORIIIIIIIICE! AH, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!"
"NOOOO!"
"Catch me if you can!" In Johan's dream, he was back in Italy, being chased after Sex Pistols, only...the world didn't look right. It looked more like something in a Klasky-Csupo cartoon, the people, the landscape, the animals, the plants, everything.
"Hey! No fair," shouted Number 1. "Your Stand keeps hitting us!"
Suddenly, Number 3 grabbed onto Number 5 and yanked on his lips. "This is all your fault! You keep slowing us down!" Number 5 began to cry loudly.
"Hey! MUDA!" Johan summoned DARE, who gave Number 3 a punch. Johan then held Number 5 close. The little Stand bawled like a baby and buried
"That's what you get for picking on him all the time," said Number 7 to 3.
"He never learns his lesson," growled Number 6
"Aren't you worried that you'll end up hurting Mista one day?" asked Number 1 to Johan.
"Nah. He's tough. No one can beat Zio Mista!"
"Exactly," said Mista, who was watching from afar. Like the rest of the dream, he also looked like a Klasky-Csupo cartoon. "Though, maybe you could be a little gentler on the little guys."
"Son," the boy heard his mother call out. "È ora di cena!"
"Oop! Dinner time!" He ran for the door to his family's villa and opened the door. Only...
"Huh?" Johan wasn't in his villa, but in a dark stone tunnel. It didn't look like a cartoon anymore, but real life. "What is this?" He turned around, only to smack himself into a brick wall. "What the..." He felt the wall, looking for a way out, but couldn't. It was at that moment he realized Number 3 was gone. Afraid, he did the one thing he could do: walk down the tunnel. He walked and walked and it seemed to go on and on infinitely. Until at last he came to what looked like a storage room with crates and jars stacked on each other. "What is this place?"
Suddenly, he heard someone coming and he ducked behind two crates. He watched as a man with a blonde mullet walked into the room. He had only his goldenrod pants and his shoes on, so Johan could see his pale, bare, muscular torso and arms. But it was so dark, he couldn't couldn't see the man's face. He watched as the man walked into the center of the room, took out a book and a small bag from his pocket and set them down on the floor. Then he removed a stone slab from the floor, placed the book and bag in the hole and put the slab back in place.
"I was hoping to find someone who will carry on my life's work," said the man in a deep, baritone voice with a British accent. The sound of the voice made Johan shiver. "Alas, I have not been able to find one. There's just no one I can trust with the contents of this journal. So, I shall leave them in the hands of fate." The man chuckled. "And if I know fate, it's that it's a fickle thing that plays by its own rules. Perhaps, it'll lead the right person here. I'm not one who normally believes in this, but I can only hope."
And with that, the man turned to leave and Johan gasped when he saw the huge scar around the man's neck, and more importantly, the star shaped birthmark on the left shoulder. It couldn't be...
Once the man was gone, curiosity overcame Johan and he moved away from his hiding spot and crept his way toward the slab the book and bag were in...and he froze as he felt a cold presence overcome him. He slowly looked up into a pair of glowing red eyes...
Johan let out a scream and quickly grabbed his gunblade. He frantically waved it around the room, panting heavily. It took him a while to calm down and lower the weapon. He exhaled. "Sono stato privato del sonno più a lungo di quanto pensassi. Only, was that a dream or a memory?" Then he said, "Hold on, that whole genetic memory thing is just nonsense! Just because I'm DIO's grandson shouldn't mean I should have his memories, too. I mean, if that were the case, the same thing should have happened to Dad a long time ago!"
"No...no..." The sound of Anne's mumbling in her sleep made him turn around and look at her. He smiled and held onto her hand to comfort her as he laid back down and went back to sleep.
Meanwhile, the stone mask sat quietly in his backpack, as if in waiting...
The two young Plantar children didn't hear the noise. Sprig grabbed onto Bessie's reins. "All right. Let's do this!" And then he gave them a crack, making the old snail go forward. They went through a looping hill, jumped over a ravine, and went further down the cliffside road.
"Sprig, have I ever told you you're such a great night driver?"
"Why, thank you, Polly, but it is you who is the excellent night driver." They both laughed only to stop when Bessie halted. In front of them was a sign that read "Beware of falling rocks". "Well, end of the line, Polly. There's no way we can dodge a couple of li'l pebbles."
Yeah, right! They both laughed and went forward. Then they stopped laughing when a boulder landed next to them. "Well, that's a big rock," said Sprig.
They both looked up to see more boulders falling down and screamed. Bessie took off, going in a serpentine motion to avoid getting crushed.
Inside the fwagon, Anne, Hop Pop, and Johan were being flung around. Surprisingly, the former two were still out like a light. Johan on the other hand was about to wake up. "What the..." Until he bopped his head on a wall, knocking himself out cold.
Sprig and Polly screamed as they finally cleared the boulders. "Well, we obviously nailed that. But, uh, should we stop?" Sprig asked Polly nervously.
"Pshaw! No way! That all you got, night driving?" Though Polly tried to hide it, it was clear she was scared as well.
"Then, away we go." Sprig cracked the reins and Bessie moved forward into the spooky forest.
As they went down the trail, they heard a vulture bug screech "Murder, murder!", a multi-eyed beetle crawl out of a stump, and a mouse crying for help while in a snake's mouth. Polly chuckled nervously, "Could this place get any creepier? Wait, who's that?"
Up ahead was a bearded newt wearing a long black coat and a battered top hat and carrying a lantern. His head was bent forward so, the kids couldn't see his face. He extended his arm out with his thumb sticking out. "Huh, hitchhiker," said Polly. "What's, uh, our policy on those?"
"Just play it cool," said Sprig. "Maybe he's friendly." They stopped next to the hitchhiker and Sprig said, "Anything we can help you with today?"
Lightning flashed and the two kids got a good look at him. The arm he extended out had a rusty hook hand and above his grinning teeth was a single blind eye. The kids screamed with horror. "PUNCH IT, SPRIG!" He cracked the reins and Bessie zoomed off, much to their relief.
"Well, that was close," said Sprig. "Good thing we're way too good at night driving."
"Preach!"
They passed a sign that read "The Foggy Fjords". "How foggy could it be?" Sprig asked.
Fog as thick as pea soup, Sprig.
They passed through the fjords, praying that the giant, unidentifiable creatures walking by ignored them. "What do you think those things even are?" Polly asked.
"I don't have the foggiest idea," Sprig responded, earning him a punch from his sister. "Sorry, sorry." They continued onward, occasionally looking at the shadows of the giant monsters. "Crazy stuff." Then Sprig realized something bad, "Oh, hey, wait a second. I don't see the road anymore. Polly, are we even going the right way?"
Polly looked ahead and saw someone. "Hey, look! There's someone! Maybe we can ask... them." A look of horror spread across her face when she saw the familiar looking battered top hat and hook hand. "Oh, my Frog, it's the hitchhiker!"
"It can't be!" shouted Sprig. "Don't make eye contact."
"Too late."
The fog cleared and the two kids saw that there were two paths before them. "A fork in the road!" exclaimed Sprig. The hook handed newt pointed left. "And he's pointing left!"
"Ahh! Then go right! Right!"
The fwagon turned right and the two kids experienced more unspeakable horrors. More fog, more monsters, steep inclines, ghostly voices calling out for them and more horrors that would give them nightmares. Finally, they thought they were in the clear, panting heavily. "Where is the hitchhiker? Did we lose em'?" asked Sprig, looking around.
"Definitely," said Polly. "There's no way he could follow us."
They both sighed in relief and relaxed...and then Sprig said, "Hey, did you just get a chill?" They both turned around and to their horror, the hook-handed newt was standing on top of the fwagon right behind them. They, along with Bessie, let out a scream. The newt grabbed the reins with his hook and drove the fwagon closer to the wall.
"He's tryin' to steal our wagon!" shouted Polly.
"Oh, no, you don't!" Sprig and Polly grabbed onto the reins and tried to yank it out, but the hitchhiker kept hold.
"That's it! Take that, you creeper!" Polly launched herself toward the newt, intending to give him a punch...only to miss. She was about to fall off when suddenly, the newt hooked onto her bow.
"Polly! Hang on!" Sprig grabbed onto her and yanked her free, ripping her bow in the process. The newt then impaled his hook into the seat. "Oh, no, the seat. Hop Pop's gonna kill us!"
"Focus, Sprig!"
The newt pulled on the reins with his hook, making Bessie stop abruptly and making Sprig and Polly fly off and onto her shell. "Polly, you impaled?"
Polly checked herself. "Um, no, not yet."
"Huh. Me neither." Sprig turned around and imagine his surprise when he saw that the hook-handed newt had disappeared without a trace. "The hitchhiker. He's gone."
Polly saw a sign that said "Wartwood: 3 miles". She looked ahead and pointed. "Whoa! And not only that, Sprig. But look where we are... the valley!" Indeed, they were back in Frog Valley, after going through such a nightmare. "We did it!" Polly's cheer echoed across the mountains.
"Good thing we stopped when we did," said Sprig. "We woulda been goners!" He pointed to the spikes at the bottom of the cliff.
"Yeah! And it's all 'cause we're the greatest night drivers ever..." Suddenly, Polly let out a scream.
"What? What is it?"
"It's the hitchhiker! He's back!"
But Sprig took a second look. "Wait a minute. It's... a statue." Odd. Why would a hook-handed creepy newt have a statue? Both he and Polly saw a plaque at its feet. It read, "This monument is dedicated to Zechariah Nettles, who spent his days guiding travelers away from danger on their way back home."
Upon reading the plaque, Sprig face palmed. "Oh, man! Polly, what if that hitchhiker wasn't trying to hurt us, he was trying to help us?"
Polly looked back and realized, "He did try to make us take that other path. And look. There's the path we were on." The path they took that was full of nightmarish creatures and hazards. "And there's the path he wanted us to use." That path was nice and peaceful. "Aww, it looks nice."
Sprig realized another thing, "Between that, stopping us from driving off this cliff and how he just disappeared, I don't think there's any way around it."
"You tellin' me that hitchhiker was the ghost of ol' Zechariah, returning from the grave to do us a solid?"
"Whoa," both kids said as they looked back at the statue.
At that moment, Hop Pop, Johan and Anne popped out of the fwagon's sun roof and the old frog shouted, "What the heck in a handbasket is goin' on out here? You better not have disobeyed me!" When he saw the Wartwood street sign, he knew right away what had happened. "Dang it! Of all the irresponsible, inconsiderate, juvenile..."
Anne stopped him and said, "Wait, HP. Look at them."
Sprig and Polly were dancing around the statue, singing in a deranged manner, "A ghost, a ghost, a ghost with the most! Without Mr. Nettles, we'd surely be deadles! Pfft!" They both laughed, then dropped to the ground, snoring.
"Whoa," said Johan. "Did they stay up all night?"
"Seems like it," said Anne. "And it looks like they've already learned their lesson."
Hop Pop exhaled. "All right, all right. I'll let this one slide." He and Anne brought the young frog and pollywog into the fwagon's driver's seat. Johan took the reins and gave them a crack, making Bessie go forward. "Say, Anne, JoJo, did either of you have any weird dreams last night?" asked Hop Pop.
"I thought you'd never ask!" said Anne. "It was horrible, Hop Pop. Horrible! Okay, so I was in this town full of yogurt, right..."
"I was a god in my dream! What about you, JoJo?"
"In my dream, everything was a cartoon. Like the ones on Nickelodeon. I don't really remember much after that," he said, telling a half truth.
Somehow, the robot that had been following the group all this time managed to catch up with them and slowly, slowly made its way toward Wartwood.
To be continued ➟