But Damien kept on going. As he passed by Chaplain Budman's office, he stopped to return the Bible. But the chaplain's door was ajar now. That meant he was there. Damien tossed the Bible onto the floor in the hallway outside Budman's office. Then he took off in the opposite direction. He ran down the hall and out of the building, out across the abandoned athletic field, beyond that to the gated entrance to the Academy, past that, and down the road, running, running, running as he had never run before, running away, trying to get away from the school, from Neff, and Buher, and the Bible, and the terrible knowledge of what he was.

Trying to run away from himself.

Damien kept on going down the road until his lungs. pumped fire with every breath and his legs were lead and felt as though he could not possibly lift them one more time.

When it seemed he might die if he took another step, he staggered up to a lone tree and knelt down against it and wept.

After a long moment, he looked up at the darkening sky, filled up with rain clouds and the sound of thunder. He stretched out his arms in a passionate protest. Or was it surrender?

Then he broke down again, sobbing despairingly.

Above him, high in the top of the tree, sat the enormous black raven. It cocked its head knowingly and stared down at the stricken boy far below with something akin to triumph in its eyes.

***

Damien would have been shocked, although he would also have understood, had he been there to witness either one of two small miracles that occurred that night.

The first took place in Paul Buher's bedroom as Buher got ready for bed. He took off the ring that he had worn on the fourth finger of his right hand from the moment he had been ‘called,' and there on his finger was the mark he had been awaiting, all this time. It was tiny, barely noticeable. Buher was rapturous. He had received the sign. The three figures—666. He had been accepted at last.

The second took place in the small bathroom of Daniel Neff's tiny faculty apartment. After he washed his face and brushed his teeth, he pushed back the hair on his forehead and leaned in toward the mirror to look, as he had done every night since the 'calling' had come. And tonight the mark was there. Finally. Three figures—666.

Nothing stood in their way.

***

It was shortly after ten o'clock. Mark stirred in a sleep that was really no sleep at all.