In The Blood

Foust Invasion

(Casey)

Surveying the LA baggage claim and exit area, I tried to figure out exactly where our final destination should be. A hospital, certainly. But LA has lots of hospitals; I could see that fifteen feet away from the area map. There were red crosses all over it. Which red cross do we head to? Now gnawing on the toothpick I was using to try to remove the peanut skin from between my molars, I studied the customer service desk. It said information. It did not say what kind of information it could provide. Airline info and baggage info, undoubtedly, but what about area info? It may be a better chance of figuring out which hospital that Rob might be at rather than just looking at a map. I rolled my eyes at Taylor, who was taking detailed notes of the map. I could see from here that wouldn't provide a complete picture of the hospitals, just their locations. Detailed list, my round ass. I took a gamble and stepped into line.

Taylor joined me a few minutes later with his damn list. "OK, so here are our possibilities. I found Brookings Concert Hall; the closest hospital is San Miguel. Since he refuses to answer his phone and his Find Friends places him directly in the Pacific Ocean, I'd say we try there first."

I removed the toothpick. "Find Friends ain't foolproof. It's fucked up. It shows us at a Marriott hotel five streets over."

"Reminds me—we're going to need a hotel." He flipped to the next page in his notebook and started a list for hotels. Marriott. Courtyard. Radisson. A second page got labeled 'to do' and he started neatly penning in a few tasks. I was going to list him in a minute. "The biggest hospital is this one. It spans ten city blocks. And I've always heard of Cedars-Sinai here. I'd say—"

"Next!" the customer service representative called out and I stepped up. Jenny. Her name was Jenny.

"Hi, Jenny, I have an area question. I'm—," I began just to be cut off.

"Area map is over there." She pointed to the map Taylor had been studying like a textbook. "Next!"

"No. Nuh-uh." I wasn't going to be pushed aside for a fucking poster I was fully capable of reading.

Taylor tugged at my arm like a child. "C'mon, Case, let's try San Miguel."

I shook him off. "The map tells me what's where, but it don't tell me ratings and which is the best."

"The best what?" Jenny asked. "What're you looking for?"

"Hospital," I explained, then gestured to Taylor and myself. "We're not sick, but we're looking for someone who was seriously injured."

"My money's on San Miguel," Taylor insisted. "It was closest."

"San Miguel is a very good hospital," Jenny said, pushing her glasses up on her nose.

"Come on," Taylor encouraged, tugging on my sleeve again.

"D'jou quit it?" I snapped at him, eyeing Jenny's hand. A wedding ring. She was married. "Jenny, tell me something. Is it the best hospital around?"

She blinked. "I would go there if I needed medical care."

I pointed to her hand. "If your husband was shot in the chest, would you—"

She changed her tune. "Cedars-Sinai."

"San Miguel was closer," Taylor argued, but Jenny was already shaking her head.

"Don't care the proximity. Cedars-Sinai is a level one trauma center. San Miguel is good, may be closer to... wherever, but Cedars-Sinai is top-notch, no-holds-barred the best for gunshot wounds, especially to the chest. Best chances of survival would be at Cedars-Sinai, without a doubt."