I'm with Susannah when I run into someone I know. He's a European in a wheelchair and I recognize him but forget his name. I tell him I know his name but can't pronounce it. He reminds me that he's Icelandic. I see that he has cerebral pals and is accompanied by a couple of helpers. He helped me publish some work in the past and I feel a little sorry for him,

Later...

I'm in a school gymnasium trying to hold the room from hostile forces. A few old people and kids enter and I tell them to get the hell out. I have a blue WWII-era grease gun that I fire over their heads. The bullets barely penetrate glass and I get frustrated with it. The bystanders don't seem to listen to me. I run back into another room where weapons are being held. I yell for the woman in charge to give me something bigger or stronger to use. She half-jokingly offers me a knife. I ask her for ammo for the AK-47 and she tells me she's all out. I ask her, "How am I supposed to do my job with this piece of shit?" She shows me the few remaining clips of ammo under the table and they're all for small pistols. I run out and then back in, indignant at the knife comment, "I'm trying to hold the line the b est I can and you offer me a knife?!" She apologizes and I head back to the gym.