Wednesday has come and gone.
A lot happened inside Factory 24 today.
Since Sunday, we had been urging everyone we could to show up for a meeting.
We needed as many members there as possible.
Today was the day we told them what was going on.
It was about 3 p.m. when the last members who could make it finally showed up.
In total, there were 108 members in attendance.
That's a lot.
Far more than our rival group.
Mel didn't show up.
She's been too scared after what Josh did.
I'm planning to check up on her alone tomorrow.
For some reason, it seemed like I had been unofficially chosen as the bearer of news.
I'm good at speaking to people in an influential way.
I know that.
But I still would've preferred to stay in the background.
Standing in front of that many people made me feel exposed.
Not nervous.
Just exposed.
Like if I said the wrong thing, the whole mood of Factory 24 would change with it.
Maybe it already had.
I stepped forward anyway.
"So... um... hello, everyone. It's been a while since this many people have shown up to the factory all at once."
A few people laughed nervously.
Nobody knew what this meeting was really about, but almost everyone looked tense.
Some were sitting on tables.
Some were standing by the walls.
Some had their arms crossed like they were bracing themselves.
The younger kids mostly stayed close to the older members they trusted.
It looked less like a hangout and more like a crowd waiting for a verdict.
"Um... we have some important news we need to share with all of you."
"I guess I'll just be blunt with it, since I don't really know another way to say it."
They still weren't prepared for what was about to come out of my mouth.
"Factory 24 might get stolen from us."
I paused and let the words settle.
At first, it was just whispering.
Then louder conversations.
Then full-on shouting.
"What do you mean it's going to get stolen from us!?"
"Did someone buy the factory!?"
"Who's taking it!?"
"Can they even do that!?"
George stepped up before I could say anything else.
"Everyone shut up and let him finish!"
It worked.
He had more authority than I gave him credit for.
The room quieted down enough for me to keep going.
"So, um... to answer some of the questions I heard..."
"I said it might get stolen from us."
"And no, no one is buying the factory."
"For those of you who were here—or heard about what happened on Sunday—it's about that."
"There's a group of high schoolers called The Claim who want to take over Factory 24."
Liam had found out the name from Andrew.
He never told us exactly how Andrew came up with it, but it fit them.
They were here to claim Factory 24.
That word alone made people angry.
The noise started up again, not as confused this time, but more aggressive.
Now they had something to hate.
After another minute or so, the room quieted down again.
I went into more detail after that.
About how we'd known something was wrong for a while.
About how the founders had kept it quiet because we didn't want to start public panic over a threat we still barely understood.
Then I explained the mall, the bet, and their visit to Factory 24.
I didn't mention Mel's reason for being gone.
That part we would deal with ourselves.
I ended it as clearly as I could.
"To sum it all up... Factory 24 is going to war with The Claim."
They didn't react much to that line.
Not the way I expected, anyway.
There was no shocked silence.
No panic.
If anything, it felt like they had already decided what side they were on long before I said the words out loud.
So I gave them an out.
"Because of this, if you want to leave Factory 24, feel free."
"No one will stop you."
"No one will judge you."
I meant it.
Or at least, I wanted to mean it.
But no one left.
Not even the newer members.
Some of them looked scared.
A few looked like they wanted to glance around and see if anyone else would move first.
But no one did.
The older members stayed because they'd been there for years.
This place had become too important to them.
And the newer members stayed too, even if some of them were probably only staying because the room itself made leaving feel impossible.
No one said that part out loud either.
One member near the back finally raised a hand.
"Is this what the flag is about?"
"Oh, yeah," I said. "I'll let George tell you about that."
George didn't hesitate.
"Yeah, we're going to mass-produce the flag," he said. "We're gonna show them we aren't messing around, and that this is Factory 24's territory. No one else's."
That got a better reaction than anything I'd said.
A bunch of people started nodding.
Some even smiled.
After a few more questions, the whole factory split off into groups and went to work.
It happened fast.
Almost too fast.
Like everyone had been waiting for permission to turn the place into something more serious.
A few members went out into town to gather as many rags, old bedsheets, and other cloth-like materials as they could find for flags.
I still don't know how they got so much so quickly, but by the end of the day we had more than 300 flags.
Some were clean.
Some were wrinkled.
Some were clearly made out of cut-up pillowcases.
Didn't matter.
They all had the same symbol.
A group of boys started making weapons.
Not anything lethal.
At least, not officially.
Mostly shortened broom handles, thick wooden sticks, and sports equipment we could use if something happened.
A couple of them started wrapping the handles in cloth so they'd be easier to grip.
No one called them weapons out loud.
They were just "in case" tools.
About an hour after everyone split up, a group of girls came back to the factory carrying a pile of whistles.
Around twenty of them.
They said each group leader—and all the founders—could carry one.
If anyone from The Claim showed up or tried anything, they'd blow it to alert anyone nearby.
We weren't sure where they got that many whistles from, but we accepted the proposal immediately.
It was smart.
Simple.
Loud.
We also set up lookout shifts.
Every hour, a new group would step outside the factory and keep watch.
If they spotted anyone from The Claim nearby, they weren't supposed to confront them.
Everyone would come inside instead, and we'd barricade the doors.
Then they'd describe whoever they saw in as much detail as possible for future reference.
More rules got added too.
No one is allowed to be alone at the factory.
Lookout shifts must be done in groups of at least three.
Any suspicious activity gets reported directly to the founders.
Nobody argued with any of it.
Not once.
That was the strangest part.
In any other situation, a bunch of kids would complain about rules.
About responsibility.
About the work.
But now, everyone just accepted it.
Fear does that, I guess.
After about four hours of working, planning, and arguing over details, we finalized most of it.
Then we went into more detail about The Claim and set up a board in the office.
If anyone learned anything about them, they could write it down there.
If possible, they had to include proof.
Anything without proof would still be considered.
Just not believed.
"Right now, we only know Andrew, Axel, and Josh," Leo said.
"Andrew appears to be the leader, but it's not confirmed yet."
"We don't think Andrew and Axel will do anything rash, but be wary of Josh."
That one got people's attention immediately.
I stepped in.
"If you spot Josh, get away from him."
"Immediately."
"Especially girls."
That one hit harder.
"He's gross, predatory, and the kind of guy who'd do something just because he thinks he can get away with it."
I didn't say everything I wanted to say.
Neither did George.
Neither did Leo.
The three of us had already agreed in private that if Josh was ever seen messing with younger girls again, we'd fuck him up.
Badly.
We didn't care if he ended up in the hospital.
As long as he felt it.
No one else needed to hear that part.
———————————————————————
By the end of the day, Factory 24 looked completely different.
Flags hung from walls and support beams.
The unfinished ones were spread out to dry.
The group leaders carried whistles around their necks or tucked into their pockets.
Lookouts stood outside each door.
Hidden bats and rackets were stashed in corners where they could be grabbed quickly.
The board in the office was already half-covered in names, guesses, and descriptions.
No one said it out loud, but everyone could feel it.
The fight hadn't started yet.
But the peace was gone.
This wasn't an ordinary hangout spot anymore.
It was a base again.
And maybe that was the part that bothered me most.
Not the whistles.
Not the flags.
Not even the weapons.
It was how natural all of it felt.
Like Factory 24 had only been pretending to be peaceful this whole time.
Like this version of it had been waiting underneath the surface all along.
Waiting for a reason to come back.