Little Girl Ran Past Everyone Else To Grab The Scariest Biker In The Parking Lot

The skull patch that had scared everyone was now keeping a traumatized child warm.

When I came back out with supplies, Emma was sitting on the biker’s motorcycle, her feet off the ground while another biker gently cleaned her wounds. She was talking now, her small voice carrying across the quiet parking lot.

“Mommy said if Ray ever hurt me bad again, I should run. Run and find the skull angels. She said you helped her once, when she was little like me. Said you had a special word that meant you’d keep me safe.”

The lead biker’s hands were impossibly gentle as he applied antibiotic ointment to her feet. “Your mama was brave, Emma. She was eight years old, just like you, when she found us. And we kept our promise to keep her safe.”

“But Ray found us,” Emma whispered. “He found the shelter. He hurt Mommy really bad this time. She couldn’t get up. Told me to run, find the skull angels, say the word.”

“Sanctuary,” the biker said quietly. “The word is sanctuary.”

Emma nodded, tears streaming down her face. “She said you’d remember her. Said you’d protect me like you protected her.”

One of the soccer moms who’d been filming finally lowered her phone. “Wait… are you saying this little girl’s mother was… that you helped her mother twenty years ago?”

The biker, who I’d heard the others call Tank, nodded without looking at her.

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