Hello Reader! I've decided to restart We Stand Alone Together. The story will have mostly different characters, except Aris, although his character in this version is a lot different. Please review and tell me what you think. One of the reasons why I'm starting the story over is that I didn't think many people liked it. So without further ado, the new (and improved in my mind) We Stand Alone Together.

Chapter 1: Hero They Call Me

How many days have you slammed your bedroom door, furious with your parents over some petty argument? How many times have you posted on Facebook, or texted a friend, about how your parents are utter morons for grounding you over stuff you thought was stupid? How many times have you laughed when your mom or dad was worried sick because you were out with your friends ten minutes longer that you said you'd be? How many times did you wish they'd just disappear?

Well let me tell you something: Be careful what you wish for.

You think life would be better without them? Please, do me a favor and liberate us. Take our guns and spears and knives and trade places with us. You take on the world where all the "stupid" grownups are mindless monsters, ravaged by a disease that makes them crave the flesh of kids. See how fun it is when you are forced to be a grownup. The world you knew is gone. The time of frivolous necessity is over. Now, you actually need what you want. This epidemic has brought on a new world; one of responsibility and sacrifice. Walk a day in my shoes and, if you even survive, tell me how fun it is now that your "idiot" parents are gone.

Quite a first impression, eh? I'm not usually like that, but to think about how we viewed our parents before the sickness just makes me frustrated.

I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Thomas Reacher, but no one has called me Thomas since my annoying-as-hell third grade teacher, Miss Monroe. I prefer Tommy or Tom, since they're a little more casual. I sound like a friend rather than an angry principal reprimanding you for writing a note on world domination (They don't like that, trust me I would know). I'm the quiet boy you see reading a book at recess. I'm the boy who couldn't talk to a girl without stuttering and acting like a moron to save my life. I'm the boy who was polite, but shy and reserved. I'm the boy that didn't understand why I had to wear the right brand of clothes or I'd be stared at like I was committing a social atrocity.

I live in stereotypicalsmalltownusa, aka Cranberry, Pennsylvania. It's a blissful place, about a half an hour drive from Pittsburgh (the greatest city in the world). However, no matter how blissful and quite our town may be, the sickness struck us just as bad as it did everywhere else. Most of the kids who survived the initial bedlam that occurred when grownups started getting hungry either fled to Pittsburgh or flocked together in a Target department store. They're, well they're a unique bunch. They have this lifestyle that organizes everyone into jobs that most accurately depict their skills. They have a police force made up of a "sheriff" who was in charge of security. Last time I checked, they had 4 deputies; two guarding the entrances and two (uselessly if you ask me) patrolling the store, looking for people who need help or any threats to the groups security. They have farmers and mechanics, a couple teachers and doctors. Also they have a "beauty salon" owned by a couple of girls. Why they find this necessary is beyond my comprehension. I'm a survivor, and I can live without many luxuries; a beauty salon being one of them. To add on to that, I'm a guy, enough said.

I don't live there, however. I prefer to live by myself, moving around Cranberry endlessly. Once a week I do make a trip to Target to help their cops clear the area of any grownups. Also, just to tell you, I'm fond of the name "walkers" and that's how I'm gonna address the adults from now on. My main weapon is a spear, made by the mechanics of Target. They took a Cold Steel Bushman bowie knife and hollowed out the handle, inserting the shaft of a shovel that had lost its head, effectively making a spear. To hold the knife in place, they drilled a hole in the middle of the handle, poking through both sides and right through the shovel shaft. They then screwed them together, wrapping the exposed handle in black duct tape. Although the weapons are a dime-a-dozen, all guards carry similar designs, I'm the only one who wields theirs with brutal efficiency. To be fair, I use mine a lot more frequently that the guards do. My favorite weapon, without a doubt, is my knife; a Busse Gemini. It boasts a seven inch blade, more than enough length to kill stab a walker in the head and pierce its brain. My Dad owned the knife, and it's my only memory of him. Of course, I always carried a picture of me and my Mom in my pocket, but my Dad's favorite knife seemed like the thing he'd want me to remember him by. I never go anywhere without it; it's my most prized possession. I'm a brutal close range fighter; cold, unforgiving, and merciless. Due to my prowess in combat, the locals at Target have called me by many names. The most common is probably "The Hunter", due to my solitary life killing walkers and surviving. Other names include "The Spartan" and "The Walker-Slayer". There is another, one that I despise with a passion. "Hero". Take it from me; if there is anything that my story should tell you about me, it's that I am not a hero. I'm just a soldier against hell, and I expect you to think the same.

The groups of about 50 kids are led by the only true friend I've ever had, Alice Grimes. Our families have been friends since we were born, and we've been friends practically all of our lives. Our personalities almost identical and we always know what to say to each other, or what not to say. It's the silent understanding of how each other think that projects how close we really are. To call us friends is an understatement; we're more like brother and sister. Part of why I visit Target is too see her; have a philosophical conversation, take about life etc. And, I might have a slight crush on her, but let's keep that between you and me, ok?

This is my story. And let me tell you, this apocalypse has changed me, but the people that have become my family changed me even more. My story has it all; action, romance, comedy. Now, here's a quote by Shakespeare that describes me and the people I'd met over the next couple of years.

"From this day, till the ending of the world, we in it shall be remembered. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers"

So, what do you think? This little intro is just setting things up; the next chapter will start the adventure. I really like what I'm gonna do in this story, so please review and tell me what you think!

Thanks for reading!