Broken Pattern

"Grandmother, they keep moving the bodies! I don't know if we can keep up." Gudrun wiped a bead of sweat from her face.

"I'm working out a new pattern as fast as I can." Grandmother sat at a table with her laptop, maps and diagrams spread out over the surface. "The ancient mothers layered the protective patterns like this in case a natural disaster should strike, or weather patterns shift like they had before. They never imagined their children would dig up respectfully buried bodies, at least not in these numbers." She peered at the maps. "Did they find a new body?"

"Yes, northeast of Enniskillen." Gudrun took a deep breath. "A woman."

"Shit. I really wish we could convince them that was a terrible idea." Grandmother placed a dot on a map of Ireland. "It's getting close."

"What do we do?"

Grandmother paused, and closed her eyes.

"I have the beginnings of the new pattern. Call the family, tell them I'll have the locations for their building projects within the day. They know what they need to do. Hopefully, this will buy us enough time to get a better, fuller pattern into place."

"Yes, Grandmother." Gudrun stood up. "Are we sacrificing family, or should they start hunting?"

"We'll save Family for the full pattern. No sense wasting that kind of power on a stop gap." Grandmother opened her eyes. Gudrun ran to grab her cell phone. "They're going to have to be brutal, make sure they understand. The Old Ones will not be bound with peaceful deaths this time around. They will want blood and pain. Tell them to be cautious. If we miss even one point..." The old woman shuddered. "The gods help us all."

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