Starfist: Lazarus Rising by David Sherman & Dan Cragg

status?"
    Zechariah shrugged. "Two shot rifles, my pistol, and two acid-throwing devices we captured from the devils. None of these weapons have much range, Charles; they're for close-in fighting. Comfort and another man have the rifles. They've actually used them to kill. I want them to keep the weapons at all times."
    "Okay. It won't be the job of the watchers to engage the enemy anyway, but to warn us of their approach. Tell me about these ‘acid-throwers,’ did you call them?"
    Zechariah filled him in on the captured devices. "I don't think the watchers should take them out there either. Let's hold them in reserve. You don't want to stand on guard for twelve hours with one of those things strapped on your back all the time you're out there. But we've got to be sure everyone knows how to use all these weapons. If we ever get into a fight, there will be casualties, and everyone's got to know how to pick up a discarded weapon and use it. We need a fortress or a rally point, a place where we can escape to so we can hide or defend ourselves. We can't do much to defend this village. We don't have communications, too little manpower, and limited ammo, I suspect, for the weapons we do have. Right? We don't have any ammunition for training purposes but we can teach everyone how to dry-fire the weapons. If we fight, we've got to consolidate our forces to multiply and concentrate our firepower and coordinate our defenses. If we flee, we've got to have escape routes and more distant rallying points."
    Zechariah smiled.
    "What's so funny?" Charles asked.
    "You, Charles." Zechariah chuckled. "Where did you come up with all these ideas so suddenly ? They make good sense to me."
    Charles shrugged. "I honestly don't know, Zechariah. Just seems common sense to organize that way, don't you think so?"
    "The Lord God sent you to us, Charles, and at the next meeting we are going to thank Him for it."
    Comfort stood and took up the empty bowl. "I'll take this to the kitchen."
    "No! No, Comfy." Charles took her hand. "Sit here a spell? I—I seem to remember things best when my mind is on something else and, well—" He smiled wryly. "—you sure are ‘something else,’ Comfy." Though the Brattles refused to call Charles by the diminutive of his name, he had no such problem; from the first he had called everyone by the familiar version of their given names. When he'd greeted the widow Flood as "Hannie" at their first meeting, for instance, she'd laughed so hard tears had come to her eyes. Hannah Flood had been a frequent visitor to Charles's sickroom since then, and while Comfort sincerely loved the sturdy old widow, secretly she was a bit jealous of her.
    Comfort sat back down. "Well, we have found a lot of potatoes in the fields and the men have managed to get some of the cows back into the pastures. And Father has organized a watch, just as you said we should, and we have people on guard around the clock and he's worked out a roster, to make it fair to everyone, and at night we don't let any lights show, and I'm on the watch too, and I am one of the two gunners we have at New Salem and—"
    "Hold it, hold on," Charles said, laughing. "Your tongue will get all twisted up!
    Tell me about your gun." He put his feet back up on the bed and lay back on the pillows. Comfort told him about the shot rifle and how she'd used it during the engagement with the Skinks—although she called them "devils"—and how her brother had been killed. Where had that word, "Skinks," come from? he wondered, but he didn't pursue the thought.
    "Aw, Comfy, I'm really sorry to hear about Samuel," he said, and sat up, taking Comfort's hand in his again. "Comfy, sometimes in combat people, your loved ones get killed and—" He smiled broadly. "Now where the hell did that come from? See?
    See? I remembered something there! I've been in a war! I know it! Holding hands with you is good therapy for me."
    "Comfort! Come outside at once!" Zechariah Brattle paused at the door