I've got some sneaking suspicions as to what this might have meant, but I thought it would be good to get some perspective on it.

I was with a group of friends at a museum in London ambling about and looking at the artwork, when I noticed folks were acting strange. There were loads of people ambling around silently, almost like zombies, but they didn't pose any real threat. And they were growing this kind of gnarly abscesses on their faces. So I asked a museum curator what was going on and he brought out a television and switched to the news. The anchorman was talking about a pandemic that was sweeping London and stemmed from infected water. So pretty soon the whole place was quarantined, only the infected people were being kept outside, and healthy people were being herded inside, which just resulted in a huge mess and essentially everyone became infected except for me. So I panicked and ran for a hotel, which was completely deserted, and I locked myself in a room. After a few hours there was a knock on the door, and I opened it partially, and a little black boy was standing there. He asked me to come out and play with him, and the fact that he could speak made me think he was healthy, but I noticed the abscesses on his face. I told him I couldn't play because if I did I would becoming infected like him, and he told me he was healthy, despite the fact that he clearly wasn't. Pretty soon his mother came by silently and looked me dead in the eyes before picking him up and carrying him away, but as he left he said "it's true, I am infected, but at least I can still speak. At least I still have that, don't you get it?"

And then the dream was over.