Lisa did know where she was going, but navigating while being accosted by something wholly dedicated to pegging her with inanimate objects didn't make for a clear state of mind. At one point, when they'd stopped at a corner to catch her breath, the thing had actually slapped her, hard, right across the face. The handprint was still there, red and welted by the time they got to the station side door. Right as the Thing on their tail was gearing up to toss a bench in their direction.
She grabbed Dean by the back of the shirt and dragged him in, falling back with her own momentum as he closed the door. Adrenaline was pumping like gasoline through her veins. It was the only reason why she didn't just break down right there against the hallway wall.
Instead, she sank down against it caught in borderline hyperventilation. It stopped only when she covered a terrified shriek with both hands when the bench hammered the door outside.