"Come on!" Lola shouted.

She pulled at my hand, and finally, my feet responded. We made our way up the last few steps in a blur. When we reached the mezzanine, I looked over my shoulder. The mass of figures drew closer. My heart raced.

"Don't look back!" She tugged again.

"What the fuck? What the fuck?" I yelled as I broke into a run along with her.

When we reached the door, I pulled it open, letting Lola go first.

The cult poured onto the grating behind us, feet thundering across the metal as they raced forward. Their leader stretched a hand towards me, and before I could get through the door, he grabbed me by the wrist.

"Get off!" I yelled. The thick, silvery ring he wore cut into my skin as his grip tightened. With my free hand, I clawed at his fingers, pressing my nails into his flesh. His grip loosened for a second, and I yanked free.

He stretched to grab me again, but I swatted his hand back. I leapt through the door and slammed it shut behind me. I felt the thump through the wall as he collided with it on the other side.

"Let's go!" Lola yelled as she rushed up the stairs. She reached the top and shone her phone light back at me. I squinted when it hit me directly in the eyes.

I took the steps two by two, reaching her just as the sound of the door opening at the bottom echoed through the tiny stairwell. Red light bled out from the pit as the cloaked figures came through.

Perhaps I can use both of you, the sinister thought barreled towards me. The leader's empty eyes caught mine, flashing like lightning in the beam from Lola's phone.

"It's stuck," Lola muttered as she pulled and twisted the handle of the door at the top of the stairs.

"Let me try." I put all of my weight into turning the knob, and it gave beneath me with a crack of rust breaking. "Shit, I think I broke it."

I didn't have any time to lose. I slammed my shoulder into the door. A shudder of pain ricocheted up my arm, but the door gave an inch. I pushed it open the rest of the way as a hand grazed the back of my arm. Fingers clawed at my skin.

"Get off!" I shoved the cloaked figure back. He fell a few steps down the stairs, but the mass of others caught him like a crowd catching a stage diver. They continued to crawl up the stairs.

"Let's go!" Lola yelled, grabbing my arm and pulling me through the door.

I slammed it behind us, but it stopped, uneven and ajar, in the busted frame. My heart pounded against the back of my ribs. That wouldn't hold them for even a second. We had no time to lose.

Lola's phone illuminated the corridor around us as we ran. My feet skidded across the dusty floor, and with each step, pain flared through my shin where I'd sliced it open, but I ignored it. I didn't dare look back over my shoulder and see if the cult was drawing closer.

Finally, the beam lit up the front door of the factory. I pushed myself to a full sprint, nearly skidding into it when we reached it. After Lola shoved it open, I dove out behind her into the cold night air.

As we rushed away from the building, my head went light, and dark splotches spotted my vision. Like a distant siren wailing through a tunnel, the haunting voice of the girl I'd heard screaming echoed through my mind.

Come back. Please. Don't let him do this to me.

I held my breath, closing my eyes as the thoughts rushed over me.

I'm still here...

"Keep running!" Lola's voice tore me back to the frigid night as she darted across the tall, bramble filled grass and out to the street.

I swallowed the nausea rising in my throat and ran after her, finally making it through the weeds and to the road. It killed me to leave the girl that was screaming behind, but what else could I do? There were about a dozen of...them...in there, and only one of me. I couldn't fight them all off.

"What the fuck happened in there?" I gasped as I caught up to Lola. The icy night air filled my lungs, replacing the hot, rancid atmosphere from inside the factory. "What the hell is that place?"

"I don't know." She panted as we jogged back towards the green house. She glanced over her shoulder once.

"What do you mean you don't know? You were in there with them. What were you doing in there?"

Lola slowed her pace as we drew closer to the green house. I sighed in relief when I saw that Carter was still there, sitting in the lawn by the road exactly as I'd left him.

Lola let out a heaving gasp, bracing herself at her knees as she caught her breath. Finally, she flipped her head up. With a shaking hand, she pushed her tangled brown hair out of her face.

"First of all, I was not in there with them," she said. "I'm not one of them. Whoever they are, something was wrong with them. Like really fucking wrong."

"I know." I nodded. "It was like they were possessed or something."

"Or brainwashed," Lola added. "Second of all, I'm not sticking around to see what happens when they get out of that factory."

I glanced back at the building. I didn't see any of the cloaked figures, but it was only a matter of time before they made it outside. The haunting voice of the girl screaming lingered in my mind. I tried to remind myself there was nothing I could do to help her right now. What I needed to do was get myself, Lola, and Carter as far away from here as possible.

"Are you all right?" I asked Lola. "You aren't hurt or anything?"

She brushed her hands over her arms as if checking for injuries and shook her head. "A few scratches, but I'm fine. Just shaken up. You?"

"I'm okay," I said.

I glanced at Carter. He stared at his feet, completely unaware of what was going on. "I need to take him home. You come with me, Lola." I didn't want her out alone, but also, I needed to know more. What was she doing in the factory if she wasn't part of that cult? Who were they? And, more importantly, what the fuck were they up to in there?

"I'll walk you home after him," I told her. "Where do you live?"

Lola hesitated for a second. She glanced at the factory, the wind tugging her tangled hair around her face. I turned as well. Like a setting sun, the glowing red light from the window dimmed, fading until it was just a haze on the horizon.

Finally, Lola turned to me and nodded. "I only live a few blocks from him. His sister Cathy and I used to play together all the time when we were little. I'm right on the way. Drop me off first."

"All right," I said. I took a few steps towards Carter and squatted in front of him. "Hey, Carter, time to go." I placed my hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at me for a second, his eyes half closed. "I'm tired," he muttered.

"I know." I extended my hand, he took it, and I pulled him to his feet. "That's why we're going home now. Can you walk by yourself?"

"Does a pope shit in a breadbox?"

He swayed, and I grabbed him by the shoulder to balance him upright.

"I think that's a no," Lola said.

"Put your arm over my shoulder," I told Carter as I held him at the waist. He did as I said. "All right, let's move."

Without waiting to be asked, Lola came over and supported Carter on the other side.

We walked in silence for the first few minutes. I tried not to look off to the sides of the road at the abandoned houses lining the street. Pain flared through the cut on my leg with each step. The sweat soaking me dried in the cool air, sending a deep chill to my core.

"What just happened?" I finally asked when we reached the end of Ninth Street and turned onto Beacon. It was like the entire night breathed a sigh of relief, the pressure that had been building as we walked past those abandoned houses lifting.

"I...honestly have no idea," Lola said.

"Then what were you doing in that factory?"

She bit her lip, avoiding eye contact. "After you left to go check on ragdoll," she gestured with her head to Carter, "the beer pong game ended. I went out to the woods behind the house to pee. But then..."

"Then what?" I asked, my heart racing as my mind played back what happened when I'd been outside taking care of Carter—pain bursting through my head like it was about to explode, and then the screaming.

"I..." she began, but her voice trailed off. "Wait, why were you in the factory, Jay? You never explained yourself either."

I didn't say anything for a moment.

"We lost the beer pong game, you know," her voice lowered an octave. "Right after you left. You owe me the answers to three questions. Honest answers. I'm counting this as my first question."

I pinched my eyes shut for a second. If I told her what I'd heard, would she believe me? Would she think I was crazy?

Suddenly, a realization dawned on me.

"You heard her screaming, didn't you?" I asked.

Lola froze in place, and I nearly tripped over my own feet as she dragged Carter to a halt along with her. "I thought someone was in trouble," she whispered. "I thought..."

"She is in trouble," I said. "Whoever she is. Whatever was going on. When we left, I heard her. She was crying. She said—"

"I'm still here," Lola cut me off.

Chills rippled across my body as the wind kicked up around us, sending tornadoes of autumn leaves swirling down the road. The streetlamp overhead flicked and sputtered for a second before snuffing out.

"We need to go back," I said. "We need to help her she's—"

"No!" Lola responded sharply. "Are you crazy? There were a dozen of them in there. We barely made it out as is. If we go back right now, they'll catch us and lock us up there, or worse."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. She was right. If we rushed right back in, we'd only get ourselves into more danger. We needed to be smarter about this.

"Let's keep moving," Lola said as she picked up the pace.

We were both silent for another moment, the only sounds our breathing and the moan of the wind through the trees. Carter's mind was still completely empty.

"You hear them too," Lola whispered, "don't you?"

"Hear who?" I asked.

"Everyone." She paused. "Their thoughts. You hear them."

I held my tongue.

"It started in August for me," Lola said. She glanced at Carter for a second. His eyes were open, but barely as he stumbled down the road with us.

"Doing okay, Carter?" she asked.

He mumbled something unintelligible. No way he would remember any of this in the morning, if he was even processing anything of what we were saying.

"It started three months ago," Lola finally picked up where she'd left off, as if she'd confirmed the same thing I had from Carter's response. "At first, I wasn't sure what to make of it. I thought maybe I was going crazy. I was imagining it or something. But, all of the thoughts checked out. It was really what they were thinking. I tried to ignore it. Some of it was upsetting and...disturbing."

I pinched my eyes closed, remembering all the things I'd heard people think about me. I'd heard enough to my face at my old school that I could take just about any level of berating without getting my feelings hurt.

My memory drifted to some of the things our classmates had thought about Lola—things that made me want to bash heads in. My hands involuntarily clenched into fists. I didn't want anyone thinking those things about her, and the idea that she could hear it too made my stomach turn.

"I thought maybe if I pretended it wasn't happening," Lola continued when I didn't say anything, "it would go away. Maybe if I ignored it, I'd stop hearing them. But then..."

"Then what?" I asked when she went quiet.

Her hazel-green eyes caught mine, flickering in the yellow beam of the street light. "Then, school started in September, and you showed up. Something about you was different. I couldn't hear anything you were thinking, and I wondered if maybe you were connected to what was happening to me somehow. You were new here, after all."

"Why didn't you say anything to me, then?" I asked. "Why didn't you ask me about it?"

She scoffed. "Hmm, probably the same reason you didn't say anything to me about it. Cause it sounds fucking insane to tell someone that you can read everyone's minds but theirs. I didn't even have the courage to talk to you about anything—let alone mind reading—until I was already about four drinks in at that party and you came over and talked to me first."

Suddenly, her face blushed bright pink. "Wait, you can't read my mind can you?"

"Why, you wouldn't have happened to think anything embarrassing, would you?" I smirked at her.

She glared back.

I shook my head. "No, I'm just joking with you."

Our footsteps echoed down the street as we went quiet again. So she'd been going through the same thing I had—struggling through this alone and wanting to talk about it, but not knowing how to bring it up.

"It started for me in August too," I finally said, keeping my voice low like I was afraid someone might be listening in even though the only other person here was Carter, and he was about as cognizant as a dishtowel.

"Right when I moved here," I continued, "and, I have no idea why, or what to do about it."

Lola's hand grazed over mine behind Carter's back, and she held it for a second. "We'll figure this out."

I squeezed her hand back lightly.

In an instant, the moment was over. She released my hand, stopping in place and looking off to the side of the street. I followed her gaze. An old, baby blue Victorian two-story stood at the end of a cobblestone driveway. Soft, amber lights lit the front porch, illuminating the white trim around the cherry wood door like piped icing on a cake.

"What is it?" I asked.

"This is my house," Lola said.

"Oh."

"I'm going to go in." She slunk out from under Carter's arm.

I adjusted myself to support the extra weight. The pain in my leg flared up at the added pressure, but I refused to let it show.

"We need to talk more about what happened tonight," Lola said. "And that girl."

I nodded. "We need to figure out a way to help her."

"Are you free tomorrow morning at nine?" Lola asked.

I pushed my hand back through my dark hair, my fingers catching on the sweaty tangles. "I promised Carter I'd come over and make him breakfast in the morning."

"Even better," she said. "I could go for some food. What are you making?"

"Grilled cheese, scrambled eggs, and ibuprofen." I paused. "With ketchup."

She snorted a laugh out her nose. "Perfect. My favorite." She looked at Carter for a second. "We can meet at his then?"

"Okay," I said. "Works for me."

"Wait, what's your phone number?"

"Is this going to be one of your three questions?" I countered.

"Does it have to be?"

I smiled softly. "No." I held out my hand. "Let me see your phone."

She gave it to me, and I put myself in as a contact. "I'd ask for yours, but my phone's dead, and I have the memory of a..."

"Goldfish?" she offered.

"I was going to say piranha, but I think you're right. Goldfish is probably the more common expression."

She smiled, and then she jogged up to her front door and opened it, letting the dim, golden light from the foyer flood over her. "See you tomorrow," she called. "Goodnight, Jay."

"Wait, what are your other two questions? You only used one."

She paused, tilting her head to the side. Her tangled mane of chestnut hair moved like a waterfall around her face, and her long eyelashes flirted and fluttered as she stared back at me in a sultry way, something I was beginning to think she did without even realizing what she was doing.

"You know, I think I'll bank those two," she finally replied. "Never know when I'll need them."

Then, the door closed behind her, leaving Carter and me alone in the dark, dwindling night, with a red rising sun burning somewhere on the cold, distant horizon.