Serenity, Texas is the same as all the other dried-up ranching towns they've hit along this run – hot and humid and dusty, the streets empty save for the five-and-dime, the rundown movie theater, the corner grocer with the 'no coloreds' sign hanging in the window – but holy lord, their bank is the most beautiful thing Wash thinks he's seen in the past few months; it shines like an oasis in the rearview mirror as he guns the engine of the getaway car, pushes the gas pedal flat against the floor as they swerve out onto Main Street. The bank's alarm screams out behind them and Jayne is shouting something about machine guns as Mal throws the money in the backseat, as he tears off his overcoat to give him a greater range of movement. Wash turns them all too sharp around a corner and Mal and Jayne tumble over each other, caught in an ineffective tangle of limbs as his wife leans out the window to fire at the men pursuing them; her shot knocks the sheriff's hat clean off his head and Wash laughs, wind in his hair – his Zoe just doesn't miss.