So first in this dream, I was on a porch with a friend of mine, and we both had bolt action rifles, and were surveying what appeared to be an enemy camp. He told me to take my shot when I had an opportunity. I did it, and I got a clean head shot, and killed an officer. I saw someone in the enemy camp dancing (It looked like some kind of living Tiki thing), and decided to ignore it and look for another officer to snipe. For some reason I had this idea in my mind that major Burns (a character from the old show Mash) was in the enemy camp and I had to kill him. I couldn't find him, but I killed another officer with a shot in the back. Then, for no particular reason, I shot the priest who was in the enemy camp. It looked like he was performing some sort of ritual with the dead bodies. He got hit in the back, collapsed, and died. I was wondering why I did that, and I started crying. I was out of ammo, but my friend had two bullets left. I asked him why I would shoot an innocent priest, and he said he didn't know. Then he said that it must have just been a misfire. It wasn't- I was aiming for the priest- but I pretended that was what happened. He said it would get better with experience. I'm not sure what he was talking about, but I think what he meant was that killing would get easier. I used the two bullets to kill two more. At this point, I was out of ammo, and I saw a zombie climbing the ladder to get to us. The zombie was Bob Marley. I jumped down so it couldn't get to me. It followed me, and I climbed up the ladder. We repeated this for a while, until Someone killed it with a fire grenade. Given that a zombie apocalypse was happening, I ran and hid in a bathroom with the light off. A group of zombies found me, and I considered killing myself with a grenade and taking out the zombies with me. At that point I suddenly found myself at the beach, at night, with a bunch of other survivors, including one old man whom I immediately started to converse with. I don't actually know this man in reality, but in my dream he was a family friend of mine. I told him I happened to have a copy of The Lord of the Flies with me. I said that I remembered he told me that was his grandson's favorite book. He corrected me, saying that it was his favorite book. He told me about how he had to watch his entire family get eaten by these things. I told him I didn't know where my parents were, but that since we survived, there was a chance they did too. I then asked who I was kidding, and said that we were the exceptions to the rule, which was death. I said to him, "It's safe to assume my parents are dead, isn't it?" Then I remembered, my dog was home with them. I pictured my dog getting eaten by the zombies and started crying. I looked up and there was a shooting star on the horizon.