Knocking

I do not know how the zombie apocalypse starts in my dream. When I enter, the pandemic has already begun and where I am at there seems to be nobody around. I walk through what seems to be a large, courtyard type area outside of a medium sized cottage house. I enter the house through some French doors and flip on some lights. I had entered what seemed to be the kitchen area, though it is rather small. When I switch on the lights, I all of a sudden can see zombies meandering around the courtyard exactly where I had been only a moment before. However, they do not seem to take any care in the fact that I am drawing attention to myself. I then go to the stove and pick up a frying pan that I intend to use as a weapon. I look out the French doors from where I just came and notice a large pipe about waist high going through what all of a sudden appears to be a extremely thick brick wall starting at the side of the cottage. Inside of the pipe is a boy who I seem to recognize, but I cannot place who it is. Standing directly in front of the pipe with its back to the boy is another zombie. I can, however, tell that he is pleading for help so I begin to knock loudly on the windows farther away to draw all of the zombie's attentions. Suddenly alert to my presence, they all swarm to the area where I am knocking and begin to moan and claw at the glass. That is, all except the zombie standing in front of the boy. It stays oblivious until the boy finally decides to retreat into the pipe. Finally this particular zombie seems to take notice of movement and follows the boy into the pipe. Since the zombies are enthralled with where I was knocking on the glass, I decide to go try to help him and follow through the same pipe. When I come out on the other side, it seems like we are in something similar to a darkly colored prison hall in aura. The entire hall is made of a dark steel. I immediately see the boy and the zombie wrestling with each other and I grip my skillet to get ready to help. The next thing I hear is the boy yelling at the zombie, "No! Do not bite me! Do not bite me!" A cold dread washed over me and I slowly shuffled around the fray and took off running down the hall, leaving the boy behind me. A guilt fills me as I hear him call after me, "No! Do not leave me behind! You will regret this!" Somehow I end up entering what seems to be a larger metal room filled with survivors. What is even more weird than coincidentally coming upon this group is that the boy I just left behind is sitting in the corner of the room with blood running down his arm. It seems that he was telling the story of his almost-escape from the disaster when he turns to speak to me, "I did not get bitten by the zombie you saw me fighting. After I finally crushed his skull, I was attacked by another zombie that had found me. I could have been saved if you had been there." Almost as soon as he says these last words to me, I wake up.