Conspiracy of Bones (And the Beat Goes On)

by Tracy Krauss

  After trying both Anthony’s room and his cell, Mark called the front desk. "Did Anthony Vanguard check out by any chance?"

  There was a pause as the woman consulted her computer. "No. He’s still in room 309."

  "Oh. Okay. Did he leave any messages for me?"

  "I’m afraid not, Sir," the woman at the front desk replied.

  "Thanks," Mark said and hung up. Maybe he was back at it already, although it wasn’t like Anthony to be up and about this early in the morning.

  For his own part, there was no going back to sleep. He was ready to face this new day and was anxious for it to begin in earnest. Dr. Hazzard would be pleased by his new found faith, he was sure. Now he just needed some help in remembering what to do next. He knew reading his Bible and praying was part of the deal. His parents had drilled that into him. There was probably one of those Gideon Bibles somewhere in a drawer. He’d start with that.

  He found the Bible in the bedside table and opened it to a random page. Romans 8. He scanned the page and noticed a break in the text with this heading: "Our Victory in Christ". Sounded good...

  “And in the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for the saints with groanings too deep for words; and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because he intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.”

  Hm. That was good. He certainly didn’t know what to pray right at the moment, or even how to pray, for that matter. "Okay, God. I’m taking you at your word. Help me out here. I want to do Your will, so You’re going to have to show me how to do this. " He continued reading.

  “And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. For whom He foreknew, he also predestined to become conformed to the image of His son, that He might be the first born among many brethren.”

  Mark stopped reading and thought about that for a moment. He’d heard that verse before - the one about God working all things out for good. His parents had quoted it often enough. Did that mean all things? Even all the mess with the archaeological dig? Getting mugged? The present falling out with Amy? He looked at the verse again. It said ALL things. And it was pretty awesome to think that God knew about it all, even before it happened. He was predestined to be a child of God; to be counted among ‘the brethren’. Yes, he could believe it. It was what he had been moving toward his whole life.

  He closed the Bible and said another quick prayer, this time for guidance in approaching his career in this new frame of light. God knew everything, including what his next step should be in that regard.

  Just as he was putting the Bible back into its nest, the telephone rang. Probably Anthony.

  "Hello?"

  "Mark?"

  Mark smiled. He’d been right. "Wait until I tell you the news," Mark began.

  "Hang on," Anthony interrupted. His voice sounded weak and far away, like he was gasping for air.

  Mark frowned. "You alright, buddy? You don’t sound too good."

  "Can you come to my room right away? And maybe call an ambulance first."

  ◇ ◇ ◇

  "It’s okay if I don’t make it," Anthony whispered. "I know where I’m going."

  "Stop being melodramatic," Mark chided good-naturedly. "The doctor says you’ll be fine. A couple of broken ribs; a few bruises. You’ll be fixed up in no time and outta here."

  Anthony lay on the emergency room gurney, waiting his turn in the already busy ward.

  "Doesn’t feel like it. I’m glad I’ll be seeing you in heaven, though. That is good news."

  "Just stop it. Nobody is going to heaven today."

  "How do you know? The cost just might kill me."

  "You’ve got insurance.” Mark looked Anthony square in the eye. "You do have insurance?"

  Anthony nodded, and then winced. "Geez, that smarts. Not like you spoiled Canadians and your Medicare."

  Mark ignored the gibe. "Where are you going to stay? I’m sure Dr. Hazzard won’t mind putting you up for awhile until you can travel."

  "I hate to put him in danger."

  "Quit being a martyr."

  "And you? How long will you stay?"

  "Just until I can get packed up. I’ve got some - business to take care of back home."

  "Lady business?" Anthony asked.

  "None of your business," Mark clarified with a grin. "Man, for a guy with multiple injuries, you sure talk a lot."

  Anthony smiled, before groaning in pain once more. "I feel like crap. You sure I’m gonna live?"

  Mark nodded. "Doctor said so. He should be turfing you shortly."

  "Did you check the papers yet? I wonder what the reviews say. Or if there’s any rebuttal from New Mexico."

  "I haven’t had time. I’ve been otherwise occupied," Mark said with a grin.

  "Yeah. Likewise. Did I say thanks for rescuing me?" Anthony asked.

  "Yep. What are friends for?" He sobered. "This is getting kind of scary. Maybe Rocco’s theories aren’t all that off. You got a good look at him, right?"

  Anthony nodded. "Too good."

  "Oh? You told the police?"

  "Yep."

  "And you think it might be the same guy who beat me up?"

  Anthony hesitated. "I think there are a couple of things I should tell you."

  "Like what?" Mark asked, his eyes narrowing.

  "I should have said something earlier, but I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily right before your presentation."

  "Just spill it."

  "It’s about Rocco."

  "I’m listening."

  Anthony took a breath and winced again. "That argument you saw between me and Rocco. He was asking me some pretty funny questions."

  "What kind of questions?"

  "Questions about you and your girlfriend. He seemed to think she might be a distraction. I told him it was none of his business."

  "Which is exactly true," Mark responded. "How does this have anything to do with what happened?"

  "I’m not sure. Just some other stuff he said. Random stuff about you and Laura and the conspiracy.” Anthony hesitated before continuing. "I think the guy has gone loco, Mark. Like, stark raving mad."

  "Whoa. I’m not really following you."

  "I think Rocco is the one who beat me up. Who beat us both up," Anthony said.

  Mark blinked. “Why?"

  "I recognized his voice," Anthony replied. "At least I think it was him. And even with his face covered, he had the same build."

  Mark thought for a minute, grasping for a shred of recognition that was trying to form in his own brain. “There was something familiar about the guy. It all happened so fast, but..." He snapped his fingers. "He said something in Spanish! The guy who beat me up. It was just the kind of thing that Rocco would say when he was frustrated."

  Anthony nodded.

  "But why?" Mark asked, his brow furrowed. "I thought he was on our side."

  "I think he was trying to scare us. Scare you, anyway, to make sure you were taking his conspiracy theory seriously. And me? Maybe he thinks I’m still on their side; a double agent, so to speak."

  "Do you think he’s on his own?" Mark asked. "That this whole conspiracy is a fabrication and he’s just a vigilante, trying to take matters into his own hands?"

  "I’m not sure," Anthony replied. "But I’m worried about Laura."

  "Laura?" Mark glanced over as the attending Doctor approached. "What about her?"

  "I’m not sure," Anthony said. "Just something he said the other day during our argument. Maybe you should check into it. Warn her. She might be in danger."

  Mark nodded. "I will." He stepped back as the Doctor greeted them.

  "You’re very lucky, Mr. Vanguard. One rib came very close to puncturing a lung." He held up the x-rays for inspection.

  "But he’s going to live, right?" Mark asked with a grin.

&
nbsp; "A long life, I would suspect," the Doctor agreed with a smile. "Now, I’ll make a final wrap on those ribs, write you a prescription for the pain, and you can be on your way.”

  ◇ ◇ ◇

  Mark helped Anthony out of the cab in front of Dr. Hazzard’s home. It was a gracious Southern two story with large trees in front almost hiding the house from the street.

  "Pretty easy for a guy to cloak himself in the trees, if he wanted to try to break in," Anthony mused.

  "Yeah. We should warn Dr. Hazzard," Mark agreed.

  The man himself appeared in the doorway. "Come on up. You need a hand with your belongings?"

  "Everything’s back at the hotel," Mark replied. "I’ll have to go back for it and check out."

  "No use spending money on a cab," Dr. Hazzard said. "I’ll drive you over later myself, or I can lend you my car, for that matter."

  "Thanks," Mark replied.

  "My goodness," Dr. Hazzard clucked. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say you boys have made some enemies along the way. First Dr. Graham’s car accident and now this. What exactly happened anyway? Did you trip on the stairs or something?"

  "Um, maybe we should go inside," Mark advised. "We didn’t want to alarm you with the details over the phone, but I think there are a few things we need to straighten out."

  ◇ ◇ ◇

  "This is grave indeed." Dr. Hazard shook his head.

  Mark grasped his hands as he sat forward in the wing-backed chair he occupied in Dr. Hazzard’s sitting room. “We should have been up front with you right after I was attacked. Before that - well, I didn’t want to alarm you with mere speculations. But afterwards - I apologize. You had a right to know the truth."

  "We didn’t want you to cancel the presentation," Anthony offered from his semi-lounging position on a nearby sofa.

  "I wouldn’t have done that," Dr. Hazzard replied. "Maybe taken some extra precautions with security..."

  "But now I don’t know what to think," Mark continued. "If there really is some kind of international conspiracy to hide the truth about creation, then you and your institution could be in danger. Not to mention, the artefacts."

  "I doubt that’s a problem," Dr. Hazzard said. "We’ve dealt with this kind of thing before. We have a very tight security system. Besides that, now that the truth is out, the opposition wouldn’t dare sully themselves further with anything too obvious."

  "You mean there really is a conspiracy?" Anthony asked.

  "In a manner of speaking, yes," the doctor replied. "Although, I’m not sure it’s quite as insidious as your friend Rocco says. It’s more a war of words. There are certain factions that have out and out lied on more than one occasion. Changed the facts, rewritten the texts, taken evidence completely out of context. It’s a mega game that the opposition takes quite seriously. There are millions of dollars of government funding at stake. Evolutionists can’t afford to have the truth come out. It would mean an end to their steady pipeline of money."

  "That’s just not right.” Anthony tried to sit up straighter and then gasped.

  "Maybe you should lie down," Dr. Hazzard suggested. "My wife Mabel has already made up the guest room. You should be comfortable there."

  "Maybe you’re right.” Anthony nodded. "Those meds are starting to make me feel pretty drowsy."

  "Just down the hall and the first door to the right. The bathroom is right across the hall. Do you need help?"

  "No, I should be fine," Anthony said, rising from the sofa with difficulty.

  "You sure?" Mark jumped up to lend a hand.

  "No, I’m good," Anthony replied, waving gingerly.

  "I’ll bring your stuff over as soon as I can," Mark called after Anthony’s retreating figure.

  "Just watch your back," Anthony mumbled.

  The two remaining watched him disappear around the corner.

  "Did you see the morning paper?" Dr. Hazzard asked.

  "No, I didn’t," Mark replied. "The reviews are in already?"

  Dr. Hazzard nodded. He reached behind his chair and retrieved a jumble of newspaper that was already in several pieces. "Let’s see. Here’s the section. Quite a good piece, I would say. Certainly not the kind of thing the ‘conspiracy’ would appreciate. The facts are quite well represented, I would say."

  Mark took the paper. The headline read, "New Finds In Africa Lend Credence to Noah’s Flood". He scanned the article, noting the mention of his own credentials and the ‘good work’ he’d done in the past. It outlined the find in most of its particulars, including the Pterodactyls and ‘giant men’ found together, the advanced technology in the antechamber, and the fact that it was sealed off by layers of sediment that helped preserve the specimens.

  "So what do you think?" Dr. Hazard asked.

  "Generally very accurate," Mark conceded with a satisfied nod. "It almost makes me suspicious. There were no major details left out and not even a hint at sarcasm. I was at least expecting a small dose of scepticism."

  "My feelings exactly. I’m surprised the opposition hasn’t come out with a rebuttal yet. I checked on line and there was nothing so far. All in due time, I suppose."

  "Yes. I’ll be interested in what my former colleagues back in New Mexico have to say.” Mark hesitated for a moment, remembering Anthony’s warnings about Laura. "Um, actually, speaking of which, would you excuse me while I make a phone call?"

  “Go ahead.”

  Mark let Laura’s cell ring until her voice mail picked up. What kind of message could he leave? “Watch your back”? He ended the call instead. He’d try again later.

  "So tell me more about this Rocco fellow," Dr. Hazzard said.

  "He was always a hard worker. Very knowledgeable. Up until recently, I trusted him completely, but now… Anthony seems to think he’s gone crazy. I know he talked to me before about people out in the field not telling the truth and it really frustrated him. He says he hooked up with some others who want to rectify the injustice, but to do the things that we think he might be doing…? I just don’t get it. It makes no sense. It’s working against us, if anything, not for us."

  "People can commit heinous acts, all motivated by good intentions. Take, for instance, the attacks on abortion clinics over the years," Dr. Hazzard mused. "Harming those involved doesn’t stop the killing of babies. It probably furthers their cause, if nothing else."

  Mark nodded in agreement. "Two wrongs never make a right."

  "And as for your friend Rocco, I guess we’ll have to leave it to the police to find out whether he’s involved. In the mean time, you and Anthony should probably both stay here."

  "I don’t know," Mark said hesitantly. "I really do want to get back..."

  "The family emergency?" Dr. Hazzard asked. He smiled.

  Mark narrowed his gaze but he smiled in spite of himself. “Just what has my colleague been telling you?"

  Dr. Hazzard shrugged. "Something about a love interest, that’s all. If it’s real, it can wait. I would think the young lady in question would rather have you home in one piece."

  Mark laughed. “Once Anthony recovers, I’ll kill him.” He sobered slightly and added, "I wouldn’t want to put your family in any danger."

  "Don’t let the homey-ness of my property fool you. I’ve got quite an advanced security system in place," Dr. Hazzard assured. "I think we should alert the police, though, so they can check around periodically."

  "And you’re sure everything will be safe?”

  "Absolutely. You can rest assured that the artefacts are completely secure."

  "Okay. I guess I’ll have to take you on your word, Doctor."

  "True enough. And since you’ll be my guest for the next few days, please call me Tim."

  "Right. Tim it is, as long as you call me Mark."

  "Agreed. Now, may I suggest that we go over to the hotel and retrieve your belongings?"

  ◇ ◇ ◇

  Two days passed and still no rebuttal from New Mexico. Other scientists and interested individuals
entered the fray online, some for and some against. Some tried to downplay the creationist connection and explain the findings in other more ‘plausible’ ways, while others attached their own religious biases to such a degree that it made Mark cringe.

  Even though he was now a believer himself, it was downright embarrassing the way some fundamentalists carried on. At the least, his presentation had generated some debate, which meant it hadn’t gone completely unnoticed. But the fact that there was nothing - not a peep from New Mexico - had him worried.

  Maybe it was their way of distancing themselves; shunning him, so to speak. If they didn’t even bother to reply, then it would show the world that they really didn’t put any credence in what he had to say.

  Or maybe there was a more sinister reason.

  Mark had tried Laura repeatedly since Anthony’s warnings, but there was still no answer. He’d even stooped to leaving a message for her to call him back. He hadn’t quite steeled himself to call John, though. That betrayal was still a little too raw.

  There was little more that he could do here. The debate online continued and he had even received a request to talk on the local radio station, which he had done earlier that day. But now he was anxious to go home. He had more important things on his mind that needed reconciliation. He planned to head out first thing tomorrow.

  He was lying in bed in the room that Tim and Mabel had prepared for him. It wasn’t that late, but he felt the need for some solitude. He kept going back to that passage he had read in Romans the other day. The one about God working everything out for good. He was clinging to that promise right now. He also liked what it said a little further down in the chapter, in verse 31.

  “If God is for us, who is against us?”

  It seemed like God’s hand had been with him so far in presenting his findings to the world. There was very little opposition, which still surprised him. He just hoped it didn’t fade into obscurity; just another quack Christian trying to tout his own beliefs.

  His reflections were cut short by the ring of his cellphone. He almost let his voice mail answer it, but decided against it.