Chapter 270: Her Loot Had Finally Learned Some Manners

DOVE’S POV

The warehouse had folding beds, camping stoves, and enough unopened bedding to make Dove consider forgiving it for being a warehouse.

She stood inside the loading door with Edrik beside her, looking down a wide aisle between metal shelves. Sunlight fell through high windows. At the far end, a small office overlooked the floor, and beside it a painted arrow pointed toward the bathrooms. The building smelled of cardboard and dust instead of rot, which already put it ahead of several places she’d slept recently.

The local driver had marked it on their route sketch. A relief crew had cleared the unstable front section and left a notice on the side entrance: take useful supplies from the marked aisles, leave the medical reserve behind the office alone.

Dove liked instructions that didn’t require her to guess who would be furious later.

She checked the notice, the marked shelves, and the road outside before accepting Sprout’s offer.

*Secure a dry sleeping setup, shade, and clean cooking equipment. Reward: four hundred and fifty Normal Coins and a camp kitchen bundle.*

*What’s in the bundle? Actual food or a photograph of a sandwich?*

*One compact stove, two sealed fuel canisters, cookware, and twelve large shelf-stable meal packs. No photograph included.*

*You’re learning.*

She accepted, then started with the beds. Edrik tested the folding frames while she checked the fabric for tears. Three sound cots went into storage, followed by sealed bedding and a roll of insect netting. She could already picture Thorne lying somewhere clean while she sat beside him and complained about his terrible timing.

The thought gave the work a purpose beyond filling space.

They took a sound shade tarp, clean water containers, including a twelve-liter jug with a screw cap, and a stack of towels. Dove touched each item before storing it, pausing when she needed to steady herself. The first stack wobbled when she pulled a cot free. She caught it against the shelf, swore, and accepted Edrik’s help with the next one. Edrik brought things within reach and kept watch while she worked.

"This is much better than one chair and two sad mushrooms," she said, running her hand over a sealed pillow.

"Were the mushrooms unhappy?"

"I was unhappy. Close enough."

He laughed and carried over a cooking pot from the marked kitchen shelf. Dove checked its inside, stored it, and completed the task with the last of the clean utensils.

The reward arrived as owned supplies. Four hundred and fifty coins, a stove they could use, two sealed canisters, and meals that wouldn’t demand a public stall or a customer conversation before they could eat. Dove let herself enjoy it properly.

"We can make an actual camp," she said. "Not just lie somewhere and hope the floor doesn’t hate us."

Edrik watched her face. "Show me."

They carried one cot outside beneath the warehouse’s side awning, where they could see the van and the road. Dove spread the new bedding over it, added a pillow, and placed the fan where it could move air across the head of the bed. Then she stood back with her hands on her hips.

It wasn’t a home. It was a clean, comfortable place for someone she loved to rest, and she had put it together out of things she’d found and earned.

That was enough to make her throat feel annoyingly tight.

Edrik sat on the cot to test it. The frame held under his weight. He patted the space beside him, and Dove sat down with more relief than she had expected.

"I want him here," she said.

"I know."

She leaned against his shoulder. "I want you both somewhere I don’t have to count exits before I decide whether I can kiss you."

His hand slid around hers. "You can kiss me now. I counted them."

She did, smiling against his mouth. It didn’t solve the road or Thorne’s injury, but it made the little patch of shade feel like theirs.

Afterward, she opened the private shop and used the hundred and fifty coins she’d earned training to buy a listed charging kit for the movie player they already owned. Sprout showed the charged battery pack, compatible cable, and foldout solar panel before she agreed. She checked that the plug matched their player, then pictured the three of them arguing over which saved film to watch while the little screen lit their faces.

*And when the pack runs out?*

*Use the panel in sunlight. Charging will take time, and shade will reduce its output.*

*Good. A normal problem. I could kiss you.*

*Your current household would likely prefer an alternative recipient.*

Sprout added a row of private offers. Glossy Hair cost eighty Favor Coins and made strangers a little more willing to hear her out, not believe a lie without question. A cheerleader outfit cost one hundred and twenty and added ten percent scavenging luck while worn. Pretty lingerie cost one hundred and sixty and added five percent to eligible loose supplies she collected; stored belongings and rewards couldn’t be counted again. A thirty-coin ring encouraged tips without forcing anyone to pay.

*You made underwear useful. That feels like cheating.*

*Would you prefer useless underwear?*

She saved the offers instead of spending while distracted. Edrik asked what she was smiling at. "Clothes with benefits," she told him, and immediately regretted his interested look.

They used one of the new meal packs for her and two for him, cooking outside the warehouse with the stove set safely away from the bedding. There were still plenty left. There were also groceries, rice, beans, seasoning, and the food they’d saved from earlier stops. Dove wasn’t scraping the bottom of anything except her patience.

They left the medical reserve exactly where they had found it. Dove tucked a note beneath the relief crew’s sign listing the household goods they’d taken, then added that the side door still closed properly. Somebody maintaining the place might appreciate knowing that much. She wasn’t saving the warehouse. She was leaving it easier for the next person to understand.

Before leaving, she packed the stove after it cooled and checked the unused supplies against what they’d actually taken. While Edrik folded the bedding, she found a small tray near the office and brought it over.

"For Thorne," she said. "He can eat in bed without wearing half of it."

Edrik smiled, but it softened as she fitted the tray across the cot for a test. She could see him picturing the same thing she was.

They stored the cot, bedding, and tray before the radio crackled from the van. The northern relay called their agreed name, and Dove hurried over.

The clinic had a travel update.

Thorne’s bed might not have to stay empty much longer.