I could see the van heading towards me. It’s music tinkling amidst the eerily silent street. I knew what this meant, we all did. Especially The Unwanted.

The two men climbed out, boxes piled in their arms. Their navy jumpsuits still on brand with the company colours we all used to know and love. I ushered them inside, not that it would do much good. All Hell breaks loose when the Oreos arrive.

‘Drop them over there’ I nodded towards the corner of the room. I needn’t have bothered, the pile of uneaten biscuits was already waist high. I started preparing the defences.

‘You’ll have to stay here for the evening, a crowd will already be forming out there.’ I started pulling the inside shutters down, just as a brick was flung through the already broken window. I rolled my eyes. Waste of a brick really.

The two men were settling in, not much effort made to help me, I guess those traditional values don’t count for much these days.

I noticed one of the men take off his jacket and settle in to the dirty couch in the corner, I caught a flash of yellow through the rip in his jumpsuit. Odd, these men are always immaculate, one of The Unwanted must have caught them on the way through the wasteland.

‘Rough journey?’ I ask nonchalantly. He looked up at me, they never speak so it was a stupid question. The bangs and screams started from outside the shutters. Food has been scarce since the apocalypse began three years ago, these days there’s nothing left. Nothing but my endless supply of oreo’s, the object of everyone’s desire. I move around, take what I can with me, but they always find me in the end. On the first of every month specifically. It’s how we all keep track of time passing, now that technology has failed us.

Yes, I’m a target. But I’ve never been caught. The Unwanted aren’t that smart. The smart ones were all smart enough to die before the world went to shit.

‘Fancy a bite to ea-‘ I say turning to look at my guests. Stopped in my tracks by the gun pointed at my head. This is new.

‘You’re the Oreocle?’ He asked.

‘The Oreocle? That’s what you’re calling me?’ I raised my eyebrows. Nothing like unlimited oreo’s to turn everyone into cult-loving psychopaths.

I know what these guys want, they’ll take me hostage, keep me to lure the Oreos to them like bait. I’ll escape like I always do and we’ll repeat it every few months. There’s never been a gun involved before though. It’s strange, being the most wanted girl in a world of The Unwanted. It’s strange being the Oreocle.