A low rumble shivered beneath their spotless boots like an annoyed moan.
Fine stone and sand showered the chamber. Jack coughed as if he had a rattlesnake in his throat. His flashlight tumbled out of his grasp as he leaned forward to catch a breath.
Roger flashed his light at him and covered his nose and mouth. “I’m outta here.”
The protest grew like rolling thunder. Roger spit dirt. “You wanna be right—or dead?”
The uncertain ground wobbled. Jack pounced forward, propelled through the entrance as crashing rock exploded behind him.
He plunged alone.
~ * ~
The word limit for Right is 100 words. I used all of them.
For the rules and to join, check out: http://mommasmoneymatters.com/flash-fiction/ for the new quarter of Flash in the Pan.