Walker Scobell Backpack Novels & Stories

Nicole smiled. Camila rolled her eyes as her mother smiled. At the table, little Bea laughed out loud looking out the window, which overlooked the forest. Camila looked at her with a frown, what was wrong with her, she thought. She walked over to her, looking in the direction she was looking. But there were only trees, nothing else. He left her on her own, walked over to the couch where her leather bag was, it wasn't a backpack or anything, it was a brown cross”body bag. She put it on, dropping it in the back.

“You can use that big boulder over there to plug the hole. Don’t worry, we don’t have members who are half as strong as you. We’ll help you get it back once you complete your quest.” Again, I hesitated. Glancing at the Smiths, both of them gave me a nod of assurance. Then I shifted toward Tom. He gave me a nod of approval. “I don’t have a bag.” “Here, you can borrow this.” Sven tossed a leather backpack to me.

I washed my hands with her canteen water, then acquired her Bowie knife and pepper spray. "These might come in handy," I mumbled to myself before slinging my backpack back onto my back. Elektra: The coast is clear. We can run. Ten minutes later, we arrived at the perimeter of the lake. Alexus: Are you sensing anyone? I'm not, but I just want to be sure. Elektra: I don't sense a single soul. You have two minutes, and then we need to be on the move again. I kept my backpack with me. It was waterproof, and I didn't need it getting away from me or snatched from me while I was cleaning myself off.

There’s a black backpack that looks like it has been torn to shreds. “Must have been a bear,” I suggest. “Some poor hiker left food in his pack.” Kelly shakes her head. “I thought that at first, too,” she says. “But look closer.” I let go of Emma’s soft hand, and she moved in close to Kelly to look at the footprints while I pick up what’s left of the backpack. I catch my breath when I see it–a shiny silver logo on what is left of the cloth. “That’s right,” Kelly says, sensing my shock. “It’s them.”

“How could I forget? It’s nice to see you again, Damon.” Damon finally turned from the window, his gaze cool and measured. “Yeah, you too,” he said simply. He nodded toward the backpack. “Um… thanks for these.” Kylian leaned forward slightly, resting one arm on the back of Felix’s seat. “They’re clean,” he said matter-of-factly. “Two Glocks, one compact, and the rest are pieces you won’t have trouble moving. Untraceable, like you wanted.” Damon gave a small nod, his face unreadable. “Good.”

"You think we can go back to the motel? I held a gun to Antonio Gambo in a shitty ass diner in a town that doesn't even have a name, and you want to go back to that motel?" Well... When he puts it that way. "But what about my stuff?" There's nothing valuable in my backpack except a cool new swimsuit I paid for but haven't gotten to dip in chlorine yet. And my driver's license, which would be handy to not lose. "Your bag is in the back," he says, his foot pressing down on the gas harder. I turn and check the backseat of his Jeep, and sure enough, my bag is tucked behind the seat.

She reached down and lifted Hayden’s backpack from the floor. "Be at peace, Hayden. Alpha Carter isn't a rogue; he’s merely concerned with pack safety," she said, handing the bag to me. "He passed through the scent-scanners this morning. There are no silver blades or dangerous items inside." "I recall him carrying a tactical terminal," I said, my voice low as I took the bag. It felt suspiciously light. I unzipped the leather casing. Inside, there was nothing but a change of thermal layers and a small flask of water. No tech.

When the noisier and thus, scarier wolf almost takes a bite off his left leg, he thinks of getting rid of his backpack which is slowing him down considerably, catching in branches and killing his back from its weight. But it holds his only possessions, the only necessities he has. This worn-down pathetic shoulder bag contains the entirety of his short life. He has dragged it through mud and sweat, through countless pursuits, through cons that almost got him killed, through tears and heart breaks. There is no way, no way in hell, he will let a stupid, weak and pathetic little pack of ridiculously idiotic werewolves make him lose his precious belonging. “Argh! Fuck!” A sharp pain takes over hi

Opening the back, I help Kelsea down, and then go around to Ruby's side, doing the same with her. "Look at you being such a gentleman," Ruby teases, reaching in and grabbing her bag. She's a teacher, for sure. My mom carries the same bag everywhere. I call it a GO bag, because no matter what you might need, it's probably inside that bag. You need a band-aid? They got it. A bottle of water? No problem. A poncho? Definitely in there. A sewing kit? No big deal, it's fucking secured to the side with a magnet. Teachers are better than any Boy Scout I've ever met. When the world ends, I don't need a prepper, give me a damn teacher, any day of the week. Securing it crossbody, she pushes her hair ba

Instead, I veered toward the Old Oak creek. Hidden beneath a hollowed-out log was a waterproof rucksack I had stashed three weeks ago. I wasn’t stupid. I had seen the way Kaelen looked at Elena; I had smelled her floral scent on his skin long before today. I had prepared for the worst while hoping for a miracle that never came. Inside the bag was a burner phone, five thousand dollars in cash I’d skimmed from the pack’s laundry accounts over the years, and a sleek black leather jacket.