I was at my grandmother's house (she's been deceased since 1994), and I had my son and daughter with me.  I don't know why I was there.  I took a notion on a gut feeling and looked out the back window.  I saw a human figure stepping off of the railroad tracks (there were none in real life) and into Grandma's back yard.  The figure looked up, and I saw HER clearly.  She was a female (presumably teenager), wearing a floor length raggedy duster open in front, a western style tan hat with the rim severely diarrayed, had curly brownish hair framing her face down to about her ears, carrying a rifle under her left arm.  She looked as though it had been some time since a bath. She saw me! I let the curtain fall shut.  I turned and my grandmother handed me a black slide action handgun (she hated guns and never had one), and I called the police.  I took my children to my Grandpa's old room and had them stay there.  We waited a LONG time for the police.  They did finally show up at the front door.  One officer assured me that there was NOONE in the backyard, but they would try and get to the bottom of the situation.  They left.  Sometime after I put my kids to bed, my husband knocks on the door.  I go out into the driveway to explain what was going on.  He was telling me that I had nothing to worry about, that the girls Mom had bought her the AIR rifle for protection and had bought her son one too.  About that time a rather  larger than life black SUV pulls up the driveway.(much bigger than the one we actually drive).  Two men get out wearing blue dress shirts, and black slacks with black gun belts. I turn when I hear the door shut, and begin to open my mouth, and the driver (a very large man with straight dark hair parted in the middle and a scarred up face) shoots at us.  I assumed my husband took the bullet and opened my mouth again to protest, and another shot rang out.  They turned to go in the house, and the driver threw a pine color wooden chair at me, and told me to "help him", I assumed meant my husband.  I turned, and noticed that my husband wasn't there. I looked up and there were three prefectly aligned pine trees and high up on the three was a blood splatter...one on each tree forming a slightly slanted but straight line. I angled my head, and instantly knew that I was the one shot not my husband.  I looked down and there was a carpenter's apron in my hand.  On the apron were names and numbers written in different colors. At that time, I shrank down to sit against the chair, and heard one more shot.  I then heard my father-in-law's girlfriend telling my daughter "it will be O.K. because you'll get to see Gammy, and Memaw (both her deceased grandmas), and moma will be there too. My last thought was I've got to help my daughter, but I woke up.  Immediately, I remembered two of the numbers.....One has been disconnected (I called), and the other is the scary one.  It is the number to one of the many police precincts in Memphis, yet one that I never have and never figgured I ever would have any connection with.  It is not even a dispatch number...departmental, meaning you can't just Google it or look it up.  Please explain the significance of someone you love giving you a phone number that turns out to be in real life a number relative to the dream.  Should I watch my back, or stear clear of that area, or am I reading too much into it?  ANY ADVICE?