A friend once told me that angels did exist and that they walked among us. No, they didn't have white feathered wings. For him, it was a girl wearing jeans and a baby tee.

Mine wore a deep blue scrub suit wearing grey Nike Shox, sitting patiently beside me on a multicolored jeepney.

As I sat there, I couldn't stop pretending to look outside, just for me to have a small glimpse of what a real angel looked like. It was my first time to see anything so real, yet, surreal at the same time. For once, I wished that the hellish jeepney ride would encounter very heavy traffic and take three hours to get to where we had to go rather then the three minute ride it usually takes.

I got down from the jeepney, and I walked towards my building, trying to stop the urge to look at her and be twenty minutes late for class. But I decided to get late five minutes more just so that I could see that angel walk the opposite direction towards the hospital grounds. I just watched her walk away, her hair bouncing lightly as vehicles whiz through the boulevard.
It was chaotic. Students in white uniforms rush towards the school gates (apparently late), "I love you" and "Fire! Fire! Ratatatatat" horns fill the city air (coming from buses and jeepneys), and the light rumbling of the LRT as it monotonously follow its tracks, were only few of the many annoying things in this urban jungle.

That was for normal days. This was not a normal moment. As I stared at her carefully cross the street, everything slowed down, everything went still, everything was silent.

I moved on with my life, happy to have seen an angel. But as I kept on thinking, the memory of her face started to fade. I don't remember how she looked like, or what color her eyes were. All I remembered was her hair, her deep blue scrubs, and her shoes. The empty feeling it left me for the rest of the day made me want to search for her, and maybe, just maybe, get her name. I didn't expect it though, because angels don't stay, they come and go.

I got out around three in the afternoon because I was informed (after thorough investigation) that people who wear deep blue scrubs are either OR (operating room) nurses or Psych nurses. I waited at the hospital side, hoping that I might get the indulgence of seeing her again. I lit up a cig and just stood there, watching the chaotic harmony of the city.

"Excuse me" said a voice behind me. I looked back and I saw a woman wearing a black shirt (the print had arrows everywhere which eventually led to what seemed to be an Arial Font ME at the center of the shirt), blue jeans, and black Havaianas flip-flops with pink floral design. She was holding a pink Jansport backpack (which seemed like it was packed with a lot of stuff) over her right shoulder. I was a little embarrassed to look at her as I was in the middle of inhaling my cigarette, so I tilted my head as to not blow the smoke on her face.

"Can I have a light?" she continued, ignoring my orbiting eyes and seemed to notice my embarrassment.
I simply nodded and gave her my lighter (Damn, why did it have to be pink? And why the hell didn't I light her cigarette?).

She lit her cig, puffing a few, before she returned the lighter.

"Thanks" she said.

"No prob"

As we were basking in our awkward silence, smoking our respective cigarettes (hers was menthol, green strips by the filter), amidst the hustle and bustle of the city, I looked around pretending to be waiting for something to happen, wondering if I should go and engage in small talk.

"So, you just came from the hospital?" I started. It took half a stick of tobacco to finally say something.

"Yeah, I had to do my duty. Hassle."

"Ah. Thought you were sick or something."

"No, I'm a nursing student in this school."

"Really? Why aren't you in white uniform, just like all the other nursing students?"

"Kakagaling ko nga lang ng duty. OR nurse ako eh." (Just finished my duty. I’m an OR nurse.)

"Talaga lang ha. Kamusta naman?" (Really huh. How is it?)

"It was OK."

I simply nodded, not knowing what to say next.

"Kaw, nurse ka rin ba?" she asked me as she smokes her cigarette. (You, are you a nurse too?)

"'Di noh" (Of course not.) I retaliated, then I tapped on my name plate. "I'm a medical student" I proudly say.

"Ah. OK"

She puffed her last puff and threw the butt by her feet and stepped on it. I've been finished with my stick a minute ago.

"Sige, alis na ako" she said, and she walked away. (Ok, I’ll be on my way now)

"Ingat" (Take care) I replied, not knowing what to say and if I should stop her from going.



I was standing there by the parking lot and watched her get on a jeepney and disappear among the sardine packed people inside.

Angels. They do exist, and they come and go.

"This fucking wasteland is bullshit" I complained. "Oh, shut up. At least we get shelter and some food. Its better than being one of these fucking nobodies" she replied. Another shot from her old M82A1 rings into my ear. I hate gunshots. They leave a certain ring to your ear that's fucking annoying. "I mean", she continued "I'd rather shoot one of these motherfuckers than get shot myself. Besides, we're doing all these for the greater good." She says it so nonchalantly, while chewing her favorite Bazooka Jojoes™ gum, which I think personally might, no, must be filled with certain drugs. I mean, how do you get used to killing people as if they're bugs or something? "I think thats what the organization wants you to believe" I answered back. She shrugged, then said "Good enough for me."

I take time and looked around me. Everything's fucked up. Endless sand and dirt, all that the eye can see. This stupid sandbag I'm leaning on. Pieces of junk, big and small, lying across the wasteland. And worse, people with mad ideals running a group of stupid cow-fucking shitheads equiped with guns coming out of that junk. They say it used to be better. They say there was lush greenery everywhere, and people didn't shoot each other as often as they did now. My Pa told me that there was plenty of love everywhere. That was a long time ago. It's 2713. I don't even see pictures of what it used to look like. All I remember as I was growing up was the endless expanse of junk and dirt, mutated family members, slavery, guns, and killing. I'm a man now, but not a big man. All I need is this fusion cell fueled armor to get by. Everyone for himself, thats the rule now. All thanks to the Great Nuclear War, whatever that is. Greenery. What the fuck is that?

There were gunshots filling the air, and zipping noise passing overhead. Puffy sounds coming off the sandbag I'm leaning on. Fucking losers. I already have my leg out and they still can't hit me. Blind bastards.

Another shot from her rifle rings through my ear like a fucking football running up my ass. "Thats eighty-two for you dearie" she teases me. Her blonde hair makes me weak in the knees. A bit psycho though, but I guess that's what the wastelands make you. Best fucking shot on the planet, this girl is. I never liked company, but I liked hers. "Eighty-two eh? I only have thirty-one." I tell her. She looked at me and gave me a sweet wink.

"Hey babe, I think they get it now." she tells me boringly, with a tone of disappointment. I looked at her and laughed. "Guess they'll learn sooner or later that you'll dispose of all of them if they just stand like the dunbshits they are." I replied. She frowns at me with a funny look on her face. I love it when she does that. "Well, dear" she looks at her scope "I think their biggest mistake is thinking they can all gang up on us." We both laughed. I like that.

"They're close enough" she tells me. It's high noon, it's hot, and I'm hungry. Not a good combination. Tightening my grip, I slowly stood up and completely exposed myself. Stupid cow-fuckers, running with their wrenches and pipes and broken bottles. As if that would work. I brace my back, and point my M134 minigun towards the cow-fuckers. I hate gunshots, but this one hums, like music.

"Eighty-two eh?" I shout at her "Try beating this!".

And I hummed away.

 M82A1

M134 minigun

 Power Armor with minigun