My newest entry in the weekly drabble challenge at Phambler's world.  Nate and Seth continue their adventures.  

Descent.

Grey-green smoke wafted downwind as the crop burned.

“Smells like chamber pots in hell.” I chuckled, aimed and fired one round at the biggest fruit still not burning. It died in a satisfying spray of tumor and tomato guts.

Seth gave me his “What the shit?” look and diverted me, pointing skyward.

“Ok, Mr, Myopic, focus!”

“What if it's airborne?”

I headed for the car.

“Call Jimmy from the road. We'll figure it out. C'mon, chop chop.”

“Nate, what're we doing?”

“We're gonna find whoever did this and make tomato soup out of them.”