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This day just keeps getting better and better.
“Get in the car!” Serena screamed, her voice shriller than June remembered. She wanted to tell her to go fuck herself—and she probably would—but right now, she was waving that gun around, and she’d already shot the guy who pulled her off the bus. June had no clue what Serena Joy was up to, but she figured the longer she could roll with it, the longer she’d stay alive.
“Hurry up! Get in the car!”
June hustled over to the driver’s side, while Serena hauled her very pregnant self into the back seat.
“Serena, what the fuck are you doing?” June asked.
“Just drive—Drive the car!” Serena ordered.
June decided to listen to her and stomped on the gas pedal. She wondered vaguely if she should borrow a move from the Emily Malek handbook of maiming and killing Guardians. No, that would be self-indulgent. June had developed a taste for murder and revenge, but the aftermath of emotional pain and anguish made her take the high road, swerving the car around the man Serena shot who was still lying on the ground.
June drove the car as fast as she dared, not knowing where the fuck they were, or how they were going to get out of this—alive. Her eyes kept straying in the rearview mirror to see what the alleged ‘brains’ of this impromptu operation was up to. Serena looked pale, and she was breathing really hard. She seemed to be in pain.
Fuck. She’s like a wounded animal when she’s in pain. I need to approach her very cautiously. The gun’s still in her hand, but she’s relaxed her hold a bit. That’s a plus. Where the fuck did she learn to shoot like that? She holds that gun like she’s a fucking CIA agent or something. And why the fuck did she come all the way out here to the middle of No Man’s Land? To watch me die? When exactly did she decide she wanted to kill me herself? Or did she? Was this all some sort of elaborate ruse to get me—and her—out of wherever jam she was in? Because I’m quite certain if Serena’s life was going according to whatever plan she had cooked up, she wouldn’t have bothered to drive out to the middle of nowhere, shoot a guard, and then take off in a car—with me—her least favorite person in the entire world—to God knows where.
June’s blood ran cold as all the pieces fell into place. She finally understood what was happening—even if Serena didn’t.
“Serena, where are we going?” June asked, knowing the question was rhetorical.
“Just keep driving. We need to put distance between us and that guard who’s going to call Commander Wheeler, and then you and I are royally fucked,” Serena said.
“You mean more fucked than I already was before you showed up and pulled me off that bus?” June asked.
“Way more fucked. Look, just drive for a few minutes, ok? Let me think. And if you have any great ideas, let’s hear them. You are very experienced at staying alive against impossible odds,” Serena said.
June’s expression softened slightly as she took in the rare praise from Serena. “We can’t go to Gilead—they will kill me. They might even kill you.”
“I know that. Those fucking Commanders—they are nothing but a bunch of apostates. Bastardizing God’s Word to suit their depraved needs. They are a disgrace,” Serena said, clearly furious.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here and why you are pointing a gun at me?” June asked.
“Probably not. Just keep driving.”
June was quiet for a few minutes, then tried to reason with Serena again.
“Serena, if we go back the other way--towards Canada—you can ask for asylum. Then you and your baby have a better chance at staying alive.”
“Oh, so I can sleep with one eye open, waiting for you and your blood-thirsty gang of ex-Handmaid’s to rip me apart—like you did Fred? Oh!” Serena groaned loudly, a painful contraction gripping her body. It startled her so much that the gun went off and the shot shattered the windshield, scaring June and making her lose control of the car for a few seconds.
“Serena put the fucking gun down! You are going to get us both killed. And your baby too.”
Serena breathed through the contraction, and put the gun on the seat next to her. “I’m sorry about that—the baby kicked.”
That baby did a fuckload more than kick, June thought. She’s clearly in labor, but maybe it’s just Braxton Hicks contractions brought on by the massive amount of stress she’s under today. I’ll just play it cool until she’s calmer and we can have a rational discussion. I’ve calmed her down before—I can do it again.
June looked in the mirror again and saw a single tear rolling down Serena’s cheek. What the fuck happened to her—how did she decide that going on the run with her former Handmaid was a better choice than whatever sweet life she had set up for herself. This story is going to be epic.
A scream from the back seat pulled June away from her racing thoughts. Serena was gritting her teeth and clutching onto the headrest and the. “Fuck! There’s something wrong. It’s too soon!” Serena choked out the words while trying to keep herself from sobbing.
She hated showing weakness in front of June. That woman was lethal on a good day and Serena was generally in her crosshairs. She doubted very much that her dramatic rescue had bought her any goodwill from June. Perhaps the fact that she was either going to miscarry or give birth in the next couple of hours might earn her a smidgen of sympathy. And help, Serena thought. I’m going to need her help if we’re all going to get out of here alive.
June’s eyes were peeled for someplace where they could stash the car and take shelter. Serena was clearly in labor, and they needed to get her somewhere safe. June’s anger, which was always simmering right underneath her skin, had nowhere to go right now. For some unknown reason, Serena had just saved her life, and now she was in labor. June was scared to death. She was driving a stolen car that likely had a GPS tracker on it, feeding right into the hands of the Gilead Goon Squad who were more than likely already dispatched to take care of the widow Waterford—and herself, of course. They might wait until Serena’s baby is born, then they’ll snatch it out of her arms and shoot her to death—yes, that’s their style. And me? Fuck, they don’t care how I die. I just hope it’s quick.
June’s eyes lit on a structure in the distance—hidden by a thick grove of trees. She slowed the car down, and went off the road, making a beeline for whatever shelter might be available.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Serena spat. “I told you to fucking drive!”
“I am fucking driving, Serena,” June said, her voice unconsciously caressing her name as she spoke it. Fuck—not today, June. Not today! Focus! She was not going to tap into those uncomfortable and very complicated and wrong feelings she had for Serena right now. It was not the fucking time, and there wasn’t enough therapy in the world to help her make sense of her feelings anyway.
“You are in labor, and we need to get you somewhere safe. I can’t help you deliver your baby while I’m in the front seat driving.”
“Ha! That’s rich! You’re going to help me deliver the same baby that you hoped God would kill in my womb. Wow—so generous.”
“Do you have a better idea, Sherlock? I’m not sensing much of a plan, and as you astutely pointed out, I have way more fucking experience avoiding getting killed than you do,” June reasoned. “Let’s just get close to the barn. Nick showed me where the guards keep GPS devices—I’ll try to disable it and throw them off our track.”
Serena’s breath was labored and fast, as though she was getting ready to manage another contraction. “No need—Ezra took it off the car already.”
“WHAT!” June screamed. She had to hold herself back from jumping over the seat and choking her. She stopped the car as close to the barn as she dared, then spun around to look at Serena, her eyes wild with confusion. “Your fucking body guard took the GPS off your car? He was in on this whole fucking scheme? He agreed to let you shoot him?”
Serena was anxious to get out of the car and someplace where she could lay down. This baby was coming, whether it was too soon or not, and no amount of prayer was going to stop it.
“Just help me out of the car—I’ll explain everything in between contractions,” Serena said. Noticing that June’s face still wore her ‘I’m very fucking enraged at you, Serena—you massive cunt!’ expression, she softened her voice, and reached over to touch June’s hand, which was clutching the back of the seat. “June, I swear—I can explain everything. Just please. Help me get out of the car. This baby won’t wait.”
That was a bold face lie. Not the part about the baby—that was true. But there was no way Serena could explain to June—or herself for that matter—why she had schemed her way into the car of the man who was sent to kill June. And got him to remove the GPS. And to take her someplace away from the Wheelers and that creepy gynecologist. Her tears worked on Ryan Wheeler, and they worked on Ezra, who was only too willing to play the role of knight in shining armor.
But what he hadn’t agreed on was getting shot. That was improvised.
Why was she out here in the middle of nowhere, about to give birth in what looked like the set of a horror movie called “The Barn”? Serena was not one to examine her motivations too closely. She never understood them, or if she did, she rarely liked what she saw. She was not a black and white person. Her moral compass had been broken for quite some time. She did whatever she had to do, or what she wanted to do, depending on the circumstances. And right now, she was in survival mode. All she could think of was getting out of the fucking Wheeler’s house. And when Ryan told her about finding June—well, that was all she could think of. Get to June. June will know what to do. Serena figured she’d be able to bargain something in exchange for June’s for her help—there was always something that she wanted. That woman thrived on manipulation—it was one of the things Serena hated most about June. And the thing that made them most alike.
June was speaking, and it pulled Serena away from her thoughts. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I said that I’m not going anywhere, until you tell me what the fuck kind of scheme you cooked up with Ezra, and why you and I are on a road trip from hell without a snack in sight!”
“I have snacks—they’re in my purse. Go ahead—help yourself. Take whatever you want,” Serena offered.
“I don’t want your fucking trail mix, Serena! I want to know what the fuck you’re planning and what my role in all of this is.”
“It wasn’t a plan. It was more of an idea. I knew that I needed Ezra’s help and cooperation, or I would have never gotten past the prison guards,” Serena said.
“Prison guards? Wait, you were in prison?” June asked incredulously.
“Not a real prison, but I wasn’t allowed to leave the house, talk to anyone—they took my cell phone away, and I was completely cut off from everyone,” Serena said.
“Gee—I wonder what that’s like? Did they regulate your meals, and force you to take pills you didn’t want to take?” June asked sarcastically.
Serena got quiet for a moment. “Alright—I get it. I got a taste of my own medicine, and I didn’t fucking like it. It’s one thing to be in Gilead and not have access to any freedom. But I was in Canada, and they managed to recreate the experience for me. Only this time, I wasn’t in charge.”
“As delicious as your suffering sounds to me—and it really does--you haven’t answered my questions.”
“Fine—fucking fine. I was kept prisoner in the house of a Commander and his wife, and they were planning on taking my baby from me the minute it was born—and I’ve not doubt that I would have been turned into a brood mare and made to produce more babies for these ridiculous cartoon villains. They weren’t even subtle about it—no finesse. Fucking pathetic posers.”
June shook her head, not sure she heard correctly. Serena yelped in pain another contraction hit her. “June please—can we just go into the creepy barn so I can lie down. I’ll answer all your questions—just please. Will you help me?”
June rolled her eyes out of habit more than anything else. Of course, I’ll help Serena. I always fucking cave and help Serena. I can’t help it. I can hate her all I want—and I do—theoretically. But when she’s right in front of me, and I look into her eyes. Well, it’s very hard to be clinical and objective. I don’t only hate her. I admire her…her strength. And she’s terribly ferocious when she wants to be. I love that about her, actually—when it’s not aimed at me. And then there’s that slight sway of her hips…fuck, June! Focus!
“Come on, Serena. I’ll help you out of the car,” June said, unbuckling herself and opening the car door. “You can lay down and have your contractions while we come up with some sort of a plan that doesn’t have both of us shot and your baby torn away from you.
She opened Serena’s door, and helped her out of the car, even picking up her purse and her gun for her while Serena leaned on her and they made the slow trek to the barn.
“June?” Serena put her hand on June’s arm to stop her for a moment. Serena’s eyes were soft and vulnerable, making June’s normally enraged heart calm itself.
“Thank you.” Serena leaned forward, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to June’s cheek. June’s eyes closed reflexively as she felt those soft, perfect lips against her skin. June tightened her grip on Serena’s arm to keep her in place longer than was strictly necessary. Serena pulled away, and their eyes met, and they shared one of those rare moments of pure recognition. And just for a moment, they had a bit of hope for a different future.
“Serena…I just…” June started, then was interrupted as Serena doubled over in pain when another contraction hit. “Come on—we’re going now. No arguments.”
Serena held onto June as tightly as she could and nodded, unable to speak through the pain. No matter what—as long as the two of them were together—they stood a much better chance of making it out alive.