Free The Two Devils by David B. Riley Page A

bureau drawer at home,” I explained.
    "Why did you lie about them?"
    "I didn't want them falling into the wrong hands, especially that bunch in hell, not if they really can kill an angel,” I explained. “Frankly, I don't know what to do with them."
    "Can you keep a secret?” God asked. “Something the angels don't even know?"
    "I'll try, Sir,” I promised.
    "Titanium is just a really hard metal. It won't kill an angel. It's just a myth—a myth I allow—to give the angels something to worry about. They tend to get a bit complacent and smug."
    "Really? Wow.” I was amazed at how inarticulate I'd become. “Does Nick know this?"
    "Certainly,” God said.
    "He sent me after Ralph with useless bullets?"
    "He is not one I would be too trusting of, Miles,” God explained.
    "However, Ralph certainly believed the threat to be real."
    "He sure did."
    "May I have them?” God asked.
    I held them out on my palm. In a whisk of light, they vanished.
    "When you return, give the remainder of the bullets to Death."
    "Yes, God."
    The next question was one I would've rather avoided. “Do you like Nick?"
    Lying to God seemed rather pointless. “Yes, God. I don't know why, but I do kind of like him."
    "Is that why you help him out?"
    "No. I can't rightly say why I've been helping him. I guess I'll help pert near anybody. I sure didn't want any part of that angel stuff, or that helmet. Can't say I wanted any part of anything. But, he keeps talking me into things."
    "Do you know why?” God asked.
    "Why he wants me to help him?"
    "Yes."
    "No, can't say as I do."
    "You are something he does not have in abundance. Thank you for coming, Miles."
    "Do you not want me to help him in the future? I'm not sure I understand.” And that was an understatement.
    "You need to continue to make your own decisions in life, Miles,” God replied. Then, He was gone.
    The door opened and Buffy entered. I stood up, though I felt a little wobbly. “What'd He mean? What doesn't Nick have in abundance?"
    Buffy smiled. “Miles, you are an honest man. Nick mostly has swindlers, thieves, murderers, and lots and lots of lawyers to call on."
    I hadn't thought of that.
    She took me by the arm and walked me out into the great big hall. “I'd love to show you around, but I think you've had enough excitement for one day.” I was speechless.
    Somehow, I found the chariot right where I'd left it. The horses took me back to the front gate. The guy in the robe was still there.
    "How do I get home?” I asked him.
    He shook his head. “As if I didn't have enough to do. We're very busy. Just wait here. I'll have Death take you back.” He let out a laugh. “Boy, we don't do that too often, Death taking someone back.” He laughed again and I didn't find it all that funny.
    Death soon arrived on the scene. He grabbed me and we were off.
    "Have a nice visit with God?"
    "I guess so. It's a little different, talking to God right there in the same room."
    "That's the way God is. Yes God, no God, it's pretty much the same with us,” Death told me.
    I'd been wondering about something. I decided to find out a few things in my last few moments of otherworldliness. “How come nobody has wings?"
    "Because painters in the middle ages were so inept they couldn't picture anyone flying without big clumsy wings on their backs. It's just mankind's folly. We never had ‘em, Miles. Don't need ‘em. If we want to go, we just go,” Death explained.
    "Well, why me? How come I get tours of heaven? You have any idea how many religious types would give everything, just for a glimpse of what I've just seen?"
    "I don't know, Miles. I don't make these decisions. God said to fetch you. That's all I know,” Death replied.
    We were now suddenly floating above Mrs. Bunyan's back yard. “Actually, Buffy said to fetch you. But she's his secretary; same thing."
    "Why does God need a secretary?” I asked.
    "He really doesn't like dealing with angels and cherubs much. He prefers having someone