Backpack Hunger Games Novels & Stories

He’s standing under the tree, grinning like he just won the lottery, holding a bundle of small backpacks in his hands. “Well done. You’re halfway,” he announces, his voice annoyingly cheerful. “For the descent, you’re all going to need one of these.” He holds out a backpack, and my stomach drops. The pack looks small enough, but there’s no way this is just some casual accessory. There’s a catch. There’s always a catch. I step forward and grab one, and the second I lift it, my arm nearly gets yanked out of its socket. It’s weighted. Of course, it’s fucking weighted.

People who saw the injustice, even if they couldn’t speak against it openly. Marcus pulled up the rope, revealing a sturdy backpack attached to the end. He lowered it to me carefully. I grabbed it and set it on the floor. He gave me a final nod, then climbed back up the rope and disappeared into the night. I waited a few minutes, then opened the backpack. Inside I found: Sturdy traveling clothes (much better than the thin dress I was wearing) A warm cloak Dried food and water supplies A hunting knife A fire-starting kit A compass

“Every second we hesitate, Ryan and his… cult are making moves. And not just for the artifact—our pack is at stake, Nathan. Our children are at stake, too.” His intense gaze followed me as I moved to the doorway, grabbing my old backpack off of the hook. I made my way into the kitchen, where I began filling the backpack with some necessities; an apple, a granola bar, a bottle of water. My eyes fell on a large kitchen knife in the drawer. I stared at it for a moment, chewing my lip and pondering whether I should bring it, before I finally relented and slipped it into my backpack. Just in case.

The sky was a cool, cloudless blue, and I felt an imagined chill as I leapt out of the truck. I felt a pang of sympathy for Kathrena as she stumbled. She was weighed down by her unnecessarily large backpack, filled to the brim with various books, notepads, and fineliners, and it slipped from her shoulder and onto the gravel. I swept around to the passenger side, and, too swiftly for her to protest, grabbed her bag up from the ground. “Hey –“ she started, and then she paused, as though her brain had just caught up with her mouth. “Thanks,” she said, though she wouldn’t meet my eye.

I wasn't giving up again. She looked back at the half-hidden backpack, seeming to have second thoughts but charged into the forest anyway. When her steps were out of earshot and I was certain she was gone, I approached the bag like it was a movement-triggered bomb. Then I knelt in front of it, digging it out and zipping it open. My body anticipated some food, water at least, or maybe even clothes because I was still wrapped in a white tablecloth—gosh, I hate this color—like a burrito but was... disappointed.

“I saw women and children running that way. I’m sure they’re still there.” Max nodded, expression grim, but there was a part of him that looked relieved to finally have a goal. He was carrying a backpack, I knew he’d grabbed it from his own room. Inside: clothes, food, water... the basics for what would be a long journey. He didn’t say anything, but he seemed more focused now. I had a backpack too. Mine was lighter, with just a few food items and water bottles. I didn’t want to carry more than I had to not when all I wanted was to get this over with, reach the shelter, and make sure the ones who were left were safe.

The only thing I needed to be aware of was snakes. I opened up the bag to see what she had packed for me. Warmth spread along my chest as I brought out the items one by one. No wonder the bag felt very heavy. There were two blankets,a tent ,fruits,canned food,water ,snacks ,some cash, medications and a pair of clothes . I could survive on this for only a few days,so I have to make it out of here as soon as possible. I packed it up and stood to my feet. I can't camp until I see the Oakwood signboard. That's my sign that I've gone a considerable distance from that house.

No battery life left, my backpack felt heavy on my back and for a moment I considered dropping it but I breathe in deep and tried gathering strength. ‘Come on Reyna, you can do this ‘ I said to my self and took a step forward and grinned when I saw civilization. I put more spring to my steps and hurried down the hills shouldering my backpack carefully not to let it slip off my tired shoulder. The sky rumbled and lightning flashed in the sky.

Roll up single person tent, tent footprint, and inflatable sleeping pad with pillow, check. Heaving the large backpack that’s as big as my entire torso onto my back with a grunt and second guess the number of items I’ve packed, feeling the weight prying down on my shoulders. Thankfully, the metal framed backpack is fitted with padded torso and chest straps, relieving the bulk of the weight off of my shoulders. I’m not planning for an overnight hike, but it’s already after nine in the morning, and I’ll be lucky to arrive at the trailheads by 11 am. Better to be safe than sorry. Initially I wanted to start my hike between nine and ten a.m. at the latest, but I stayed up too late last night fin

"You packed four bags for a three day trip," Noah said, staring at the pile of luggage Camille was loading into the trunk. "Two are Yuna's." "I only have one," Yuna said. Camille pointed at a duffel bag and a backpack. "Both yours." "The backpack is just snacks." Noah looked at the backpack. It was enormous. "That is not a snack bag. That is a crisis bag." "Snacks are a crisis management tool," Yuna said, climbing into the passenger seat. "I read that somewhere."