Backpack Hunger Games Novels & Stories

Lina I cinch the straps on the second backpack until the fabric creaks, then smooth my hands over the worn canvas like it might calm me. Food. Water. Bandages. A change of clothes. Enough to keep two women alive if luck stays on our side. Luck hasn’t been generous lately. My fingers slip beneath the inner seam of my dress, pressing against the small, solid weight hidden there. The Heart. It’s warm against my skin, like it knows what’s coming.

He had his bag, my bag, and Brandon's bag full of what looked like water, snacks, and jerky, if he had anything else I couldn't see it through the open zipper. He was offering a hand to me with a panicked look on his face. I shot one last glance at Brandon and took Trey's hand pulling the zipper closed as I threw the heavy bookbag onto my back properly, and bolted out of the door that leads to the cabins. We hit someone or something on the way through the door but didn't stop to care. Halfway through our "jog", I noticed the corner of something that kept hitting me in my lower back and it was starting to hurt.

No one spoke, move they were all silent The moon bore silent witness as the pack lowered their heads. Being an Alpha is not power, is not about pride but it is a burden and I carried mine with bloody hands and unshaken resolve I looked at Peter “ Burn the body" He burned the body and everyone left The Ravenous pack stood stronger than ever and it was held in by other packs.

I poked at some yogurt and fruit, forcing myself to eat even though my stomach felt like a gymnastics competition was going on inside. After that, I grabbed the backpack I’d hastily packed last night when insomnia and adrenaline teamed up against me. It looked innocent enough, the same one I took to school every day—but instead of textbooks and notebooks, it was crammed with snacks like I was preparing for the apocalypse: granola bars, gummy bears, trail mix, two bags of chips, a family-size chocolate bar I’d swiped from the pantry, and three bottles of water.

- Lucian: zero shirts, one pair of sweatpants he’d probably lose by Arkansas, and a dragon-sized bag of beef jerky. - Thorne: black duffel, older-than-dirt leather jacket, and the quiet kind of calm that meant he was ready to burn kingdoms. - Me: Mom’s lighter, Dad’s old hunter journal (now annotated with dragon doodles), and the black envelope burning a hole in my pocket. - Jax & Li: stolen academy van (for “backup”), a drone, three laptops, and enough snacks to survive nuclear winter. - Elowen: one credit card with no limit, one bottle of 300-year-old dragonfire whiskey, and the expression of someone who had already filed the paperwork for “interdimensional incident” in triplicate.

It was tight, filthy, and entirely unmonitored. Evelyn pulled her canvas backpack over her shoulders, tightening the straps until they dug into her collarbones. She looked back at the untouched food on the tray, then down at her stomach. "Just a little longer," she whispered, her thumb brushing the fabric over her abdomen. "We aren't staying for this war."

As they unpacked the helicopter, Dakari noticed a backpack wedged in the corner of the little cargo area. It was old, and filthy, and had the stench of the dragon lair on it. He called to Paolo and his team. “Did anyone grab this bag from the caves before we left?” He questioned. Each man shook his head, looking just as baffled as Dakari. “I had this area pretty packed when we left home, with all the blankets and medical necessities. It had to be put in there while we were down with the kids.” Paolo advised.

“That’s so disgusting.” Marissa cackled, “I told you it looked spoiled, but you were way too hungry to listen to me, huh?” “I should have listened, but this doesn’t make our—sorry, my situation, any better. What the hell am I going to eat? She groaned. “I still have some protein bars in my backpack, you can check.” She used her head to gesture in the direction where her backpack was kept. Kiara leaned over from her seat, reaching to the backseat for the huge backpack. “What the heck did you put in here, why is it so heavy?” She whined, pulling it into her lap.

“I picked this one because it smells like soap.” I sat up, squinting through sleep. “It also smells like applesauce.” He beamed. “Bonus!” We went through the motions slowly, getting dressed, brushing teeth, double-checking the backpack he insisted on filling with three books, a small rubber lizard, and a granola bar he claimed was for "emergency negotiations." Tyler joined us near the entrance, surprisingly casual in a dark henley and jeans. He handed Gavin a packed lunch with a little wave drawn on the napkin. It made my heart lurch for reasons I didn’t want to think about.

So I need to start gathering supplies. The first good thing I find is a backpack. I unzip it and look inside. It’s pretty spacious, and it ought to hold several things without too much trouble. I stuff in the undergarments I found last night and sling it onto my back. As I do, I make a fantastic discovery. In addition to shoulder straps, this backpack has two straps that buckle around the waist and the upper chest. I click them into place, noticing how they change the way the weight of the pack is distributed. If I were a human carrying something heavy, that would be helpful.