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He followed.
An old military-style pack. Based on the style and wear, it was old, but well-taken care of.
“I’m surprised you spotted it.” The pack nearly blended in with the surroundings. “What’s inside?”
Chloe knelt down and opened it. But she froze.
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s a note.”
The same crude handwriting as the note at the house yesterday.
He put his hand on her shoulder and leaned over to read the note.
You were too late to save him. Will you be too late to save yourselves?
This is all he had, so it’s all you get. Good luck staying alive.
Josh’s stomach twisted in on itself. What on earth?
Chloe shook beneath his grip.
He dropped down beside her, putting his arm around her. “We’re gonna be all right. This person has no idea who he’s dealing with. We’re seasoned hikers, search and rescue volunteers who know how to stay alive in all sorts of conditions. All they did with giving us this pack is a futile attempt at scaring us along with some of the tools we’ll need.”
She took a deep, yet shaky breath. “We don’t even know what’s in here yet.”
“Let’s find out.”
She set the note on the ground and opened the backpack the rest of the way. Pulling out the first item, she let out a snort. “Great. An empty water bottle. Helpful.” She set it aside and went for the next item.
Empty food wrappers—protein bars, trail mix, granola.
Next came a tattered tarp. She held it up and let it unroll. “This actually looks useful.”
“The water bottle is too.”
“I hope it’s clean.” She reached in again.
The rest of the contents were a half roll of toilet paper, a small first-aid kit, paracord, a multi-tool, a small waterproof container with three matches, a collapsible shovel, and a bone-saw.
When Chloe pulled out the saw, Josh laughed. “Well, at least if we need to amputate one of our feet, we’re prepared.”
Chloe smacked his chest. “That’s not funny.”
He attempted a sheepish expression, but based on hers he’d missed the mark.
Lastly, she pulled out a rolled-up pair of socks with only her fingertips. Chloe looked like she was going to gag. “Speaking of hoping something is clean.” She shuddered and dropped them on the ground.
He picked them up and cautiously sniffed. “They’re clean. A little musty perhaps, but not gross.”
They packed the items, including the socks, back into the pack, and Josh offered to carry it. “Which way?”
“The stream is . . .” Chloe looked around, walked over to where he’d been tied then in the direction she’d come from, and pointed. “That way is my scarf and the creek. Should we keep following that?”
“Which direction was it flowing?”
She indicated left. “I think.”
