I looked at the black security screens on the wall.

The cameras were dead, but we could still hear muffled sounds from the outer hallway.

There was a dull scratching noise against the reinforced steel of the panic room door.

“They know we’re in here,” I said, keeping my voice low so the girls wouldn’t hear the panic in it.

“The nitrogen lock bought us some time,” Nathan said, standing up and tucking the binder under his arm. “But Julian is smart. He brought tools.”

“We need the sheriff,” I said. “We need the police to see this paperwork.”

“The storm is too heavy,” Nathan said, looking up at the ceiling. “No one is getting up this mountain for hours.”

Suddenly, a loud, metallic clonk resonated through the floorboards.

It felt as if something heavy had been dropped directly onto the roof of the panic room.

The amber emergency lights began to flicker rapidly.

“What was that?” I asked, grabbing the back of a heavy oak chair.

“They’re on the roof,” Nathan said, his eyes darting to the ventilation shaft. “They’re trying to cut the backup generator lines.”