I was, in the dream, at least three different people. First I think myself, a couple of days after the disaster and I think in upper Burnaby/New West, though I can't say for certain because although I was aware of the river always being in sight, I'm not sure of where we actually were. There was a desperate attempt to take an open-topped, automatic coal train (I have no idea what a coal train would be doing in New Westminster, let alone above ground) down a hill, over a rickety bridge, and across half the river to a set of tiny islands in the middle. I have no memory of why we were trying to get there. I was, at this point, probably accompanied by Shannon... which is odd, if only because I haven't even dreamt about Shannon in a couple of years. (Strangely enough, even though we never speak anymore, my surviving-the-apocalypse dreams usually involve at least the two of us trekking across ruined-city landscapes.) There was at least one other person, who in the dream was a sort of combination of, I think, mik100 and calantha42. Two things I recall clearly about this particular bit; first, it had not been very long since the disaster, but there was already a sort of survivor-vagabond society in place, with young teens knowing how to board the coal train just right as it passed (it didn't stop, you sort of had to hop aboard), and scornful of us twenty-somethings not knowing how to do it. At the time I was both aware of the strangeness of this and also aware of it being inevitable... people adapt, kids moreso. Second, the first time we tried to board it, I dropped my bag (full of hard-won, carefully-scrounged belongings - a towel, a bar of soap, my teddy bear Elliot) and it was scattered across the road and some of it crushed flat by the train. I had to rush to stuff it all back into my bag before the train came a second time, at one point diving into a ditch with my friends as it nearly flattened me, too.
All through this bit I kept losing my shoes... and was acutely aware of the fact that I didn't have any socks, and how I needed to find some or I'd get blisters. (This is unusual for me. Usually in dreams I am wearing very cool boots that I can never find in the real world.) That led to the second episode (same character) where we were politely looting a rather well-to-do empty house, looking for socks. (And food, and warmer clothing.) I distinctly recall going through a little girl's empty room and pulling open drawer after drawer, looking for a pair of socks that might have been put away in the wrong place. There were little baskets with belts and frilly hats and scarves in them, inside the drawers. I remember them very clearly. At one point we also found a whole drawer full of colourful, embroidered half-cloaks. One of them had ducks on it, and I remember thinking lilymc would really like it... if she were still alive, maybe. We were upon the point of going to search another room when we became aware that the owner of the house was coming in through the front door... without her husband or children. She came into the room where we were trying to hastily bundle up and flee and seemed only politely alarmed that we were there... she said something about "has the government already declared chaos? don't we own our houses anymore?" as if this was to be expected. In the end, she found me a pair of socks and I put on my shoes, and we left.
The second character was a boy, part of a Harry Potter-esque trio with a male and female best friend (of whom I was aware for only a little while, as they both put arms around my shoulders as we approached a crowd, to showh solidarity), but of, apparently, Chinese and Italian ancestry, because he had to a) engage in formal combat with a white-handled knife that had been passed down from his mother to claim leadership of the neighbourhood (this was in the same area as the first character, perhaps New West or Burnaby), and then b) ascend a rickety set of stairs that had apparently been "brought from the old country," which for some reason was Italy, to a room at the top that was, well, my room, just a bit re-arranged. Here the TV was on with a news broadcast, showing a map of "the devestation across most of the North American continent," and talking about Americans fleeing north across the border. At this point I was aware of being a girl playing a boy, if that makes any sense, but I remember that the girl burst into tears upon seeing the room un-disturbed... because she'd told the woman in the fancy house that her home was "gone, all gone." There were mutterings in the crowd below that I was not a fighter, but a dab hand with words, and would be "the one to save us, you'll see." This part was particularly strange, because I was aware of being all three people at the time - myself, the girl who kept losing her shoes, and the boy with the knife.
The third bit (I'm not sure about chronology at this point - this part may well have come first) had me as a girl, a mutant in an X-Mansion setting that was still in Burnaby or New West (or an amalgam of the two), where the Mansion had been almost destroyed, and I was with a few other bit-part mutants, picking through the mess. I remember I was not important enough for anyone to notice much that I did, though for some reason, as I wandered off to a nearby house to rifle despairingly through what was apparently my childhood home previously taken over by refugees (though they were all gone by then), one of them followed me (he bore a slightly disturbing resemblence to Nute), not talking to me, just following, as I found boxes containing my parents' belongings (my parents, not hers) and became aware that if they had been here, they were probably dead.
I think then I went back to being the girl with no socks, and we were trying to get out of the fancy house into the street before anyone found us... that was the first point any plot appeared in the dream, as we were very suddenly afraid for our lives... someone was after us. That was when I woke up... as dreams go, that one was pretty disturbing, though not for anything that actually happened, more for a sort of general, pervasive despair that was there all throughout all three stories, and when I woke up, I had to concentrate for a minute to remember that none of it was real. (I hate dreams like that, as I'm pretty good at self-delusion and it tends to take me a minute to remember.)
That was about six AM, but I couldn't get back to sleep, so I read the last two books of the Valdemar trilogy instead, because they always make me feel better.
And now I'm awake and back to fretting over Riverwend... which I should stop doing, because there's nothing I can do about the probably-necessary but seemingly-impossible changes I likely have to make until I get all my betas back.
I think perhaps today will be devoted to knitting and watching Cardcaptor Sakura and doing nothing at all.