I was in a bus crowded with friends from college and home. The surroundings were not all familiar; the roads were winding and the towns were old and quaint. The bus came to a stop at a red light and I noticed three policemen, one piled on top of another, in the street. All had been shot and were bleeding. The bus continued and finally stopped in a town. The passengers stayed in the bus except for a friend and myself who got out and went shopping. We heard the townspeople talking about a maniac who was shooting everyone. We entered a 5 and 10 cents store and were looking at the displays when all of a sudden the maniac was before me. I say me because at that time my friends were gone and I was alone. The trigger-happy maniac was an old white-haired hunched over man with a crazy sort of a smile on his face. He shot at me at least 5 times, and finally I ran back to the bus bleeding greatly. The bus left and my dream ended.