Killing Corpses (zombie novel)

Chapter Twenty Four

When I woke up, it was just like the beginning again.
Trapped in a room, on my own.

I lifted my eyelids with great difficulty, and blinked three or four times. It was still dark outside, but it was getting lighter. I could tell by the small window, high on the wall, letting in a small amount of light from the moon.
I was lying on a lumpy bed, looking upwards at the ceiling. The room I was in was tiny, like a storage room. It was big enough to fit a bed and a carboard box in. That was it.
When I felt able enough, I lifted my head gently off of the pillow, slowly and steadily. My neck hurt really badly, and my shoulders were stiff. But I was alive.
I finally made it to my feet, and really looked where I was.
It really was a storage cupboard, complete with a small door at the end of one wall. It being my first insinct, I grabbed at the knob and furiously tried to open in, pushing and pulling at it. It was no good, the lock was stuck fast.
My eyes darted around me for my backpack, but I didn't see it. Also, Senshi wasn't here. That made me feel even more lost.
My hand fell to my waistline where I kept an emergency knife, hoping it could suffice as a lockpick. But, it wasn't there either.
"Hey!" I roared, kicking the door feebly. "Anyone there?"
No reply.
I started to panic, kicking the door brutally.
"Hey! Let me out, now!" I screamed, throwing my weight against the door. "HEY!"
After a few more desperate attempts at kicking the door down, I finally heard footsteps walking towards me. I paused momentarily, and then assumed an attacking position, crouched and knuckles bared. I was readying myself for a fight when I heard a key being slotted into the door, as it swung open. I didn't even look at the man who had released me, I just pounced on him.

Surprisingly, he didn't fall over, just held me and restrained me. He made a grab for my wrists and let my body fall off of him, twisting me until I was sitting on the floor, my back was against him legs, my arms above my head in his vice-like grip. I kept squirming and lashing out, but it was no use. I slumped against my attackers legs.
"Are you quite finished?" The voice asked, deep and rueful. It was an older guy, and that's all I could tell.
I huffed and blew my fringe out of my face, squirming uncomfortably. I sighed in defeat.
"Who are you and what have you done to my team?" I asked simply, trying to stay calm.
"They're safe." The voice said. "Only one of them has woken up so far."
"Which one?"
"Mr Buzzcut."
"Callum..." I breathed. He was okay, at least.
"He's pretty freaked out too, which is to be expected but..." He trailed off. "Anyways, I only came in here to calm you down.You were going crazy."
"Wait," I said helplessly, still being held with my arms above my head. "Can't I go and see my friend?"
"No, no no..." The guy tutted, throwing me back onto my bed gently. "Not until he's calm."
I rubbed my wrists, where he'd held me, and looked at him.
He was a grown man, probably about his early twenties, with hair the same shade as mine and bright green eyes. They reminded me of my Mom's eyes.
He was tall and lean, but looked friendly enough. I couldn't help but be reminded of someone when I looked at him...
"So," He said, breaking me out of thought. "Are we finished here or?"
I recognised him.
"Wh-What's your name...?" I asked wearily, wondering wether I was ready to hear the answer or not.
He looked at me weirdly, wondering why I got so nervous, then shrugged. "My name is Liam. Um, Liam Roberts."

I said nothing for a long time, trying not to get excited. It could be a coincidence. The fact he has his name, and the same colour of eyes as my mother. That his hair matches mine, and that he has the same attitude as me. It fit into place, but it could still be sheer luck.
I licked my dry lips, trying not to let my tears well up too obviously.
"When... When were you born?"
"What kind of question is that?" He asked, weirded out.
"Please," I practically begged. "Just answer."
"O-okay..." He chuckled wearily. "26th of June, 1990. Now can you tell me why this is so important?"
I froze.
Baby Liam Roberts, born on the 26th of June, 1990
I almost sobbed, as I retrieved the photo of my mother, father and Liam in the hospital, on the 26th of June, 1990. I was relieved to find no-one had robbed it from me, hidden in my shoe.
I un crumpled it, and checked the date. I was right. This was my Liam. My brother.