Free The Omen by David Seltzer

clung to the outside of a human form? Did it come at random, or did it have some meaning? Did it have to do with external influences, or was it perhaps born of anxieties festering within?
    Anxiety was known to create energy, this the principle of the polygraph used for He detector tests. That energy was electrical in nature. Electricity was also heat. Perhaps the heat generated by extreme anxiety burst through human flesh and could thus be photographed surrounding people in states of great stress.
    All this excited Jennings, and he dug through his film emulsion charts, finding the order number of the most light-sensitive film made—Tri-X-600, a new product so sensitive that one could photograph fast action by candlelight. It was probably the most heat-sensitive as well.
    The next morning, Jennings bought twenty-four rolls of Tri-X-600 and a series of accompanying filters to experiment with the film outdoors. The filters would cut out light, but possibly not heat, and he would have a better chance of finding what he was looking for. He needed to find subjects in states of extreme stress, and so he went to a hospital, there secretly photographing patients in the terminal ward who knew they were dying. The results were disappointing, for in ten rolls taken, not a single blemish appeared. Clearly, whatever the blemishes were, they had nothing to do with an awareness of death.
    Jennings was frustrated but undismayed, for he knew instinctively he was on to something. Returning to his darkroom, he redeveloped the photos of the priest and the nanny, experimenting with different textures of paper, blowing them up to closely examine every grain. It was plain, in enlargement, that something was actually there. The naked eye had not seen it, but the nitrate had responded. Indeed, there were invisible images in the air.
    All this occupied his time and thoughts for a solid week. And then he reemerged to once again follow Thorn.
    The Ambassador had embarked on a series of speaking engagements, and it was easy for Jennings to get access. He appeared at local university campuses, business luncheons, even a factory or two, and was on display for all to see. The Ambassador's style was eloquent, filled with fervor, and he seemed to win his audiences wherever he went. If this was his forte, it was the most valuable asset a political hopeful could have. He stirred people, and they believed in him, particularly the working class, the economic underdogs, for the Ambassador seemed genuinely concerned.
    "We stand divided in so many ways!" they would hear him shout. "Old and young, rich and poor .. . but most important, those who have a chance, and those who do not\ Democracy is equal opportunity. And without equal opportunity the word 'democracy' is a lie!"
    He made himself available to the public on these speaking tours, often making special efforts to make contact with handicapped people he would spot in the crowd. He seemed the image of a champion, and more important even than his own innate abilities was the fact that he could make people believe.
    In truth, however, the very fervor that people responded to was born of desperation. Thorn was running, using his public duties to avoid personal distress, for a growing sense of foreboding followed him wherever he went. Twice, in the crowds that gathered to hear him speak, he had spotted a familiar clerical black outfit, and he began to feel that the small priest was stalking him. He avoided telling anyone, because he feared it was his own imagination, but he began to become preoccupied with it, searching the crowds as he spoke to them, fearing the appearance of the priest wherever he went. He had dismissed Tassone's words; plainly the man was insane, a religious zealot obsessed with a public figure, and the fact that his obsession involved Thorn's child could be nothing more than coincidence. And yet the priest's words haunted him. Impossible as they were, they echoed in Thorn's mind, and he fought