by Colleen Foley
Back on the road felt right. The farm Jimmy had
sent us to looked deserted but well-kept. Perfectly normal, really. I
still couldn't figure out why we were there. He'd handed us a slip of
paper, told us to check out the produce, then stalked off to his
When Jimmy says check, we check.
Yep, row upon row of gorgeously fecund tomatoes.
Seth gagged. "Dude. That's ....”
I nodded. “ A tumor tomato.”
Lucidity slipped. I saw red. Then black. Then nothing.
"Nate? Ah, dammit!"
I regained consciousness slowly. Seth’s anxious gaze confirmed my fear. I was infected.