MicroHorror

The corpse lay on the floor, bloodied from smashing its way through the window. They watched the news, hoping to find out if there were more. Van, a pizza delivery boy, sat next to her. Stabbing a walking corpse with an electric knife had squelched Beth’s appetite, so she let him have the pizza. She kept the knife close, though, just in case.

“…caused by a virus,” the reporter said, “from an infected tomato crop.” When the reporter listed PizzaRama among the affected restaurants, Van froze mid-bite. Beth stood over him, blade whirring. She couldn’t take any chances.