(19 hours later) "Alright Chipper, you ready to go the final stretch and get off this dang rock?" Mark said hiking the backpack onto his back. Chip nodded before also picking up his backpack. And making sure he had the sword in his jacket. His parents had been considerate enough to share insulate his jacket a bit more to keep his core body temperature warm for a bit. Then out of the corner of his eyes, Chip saw Heather kicked snow onto the fire and proceed to follow Mark back down the mountain, Chip followed last and stayed wary of all of his parent's actions. It was still a blizzard, even if it wasn't as bad, and it was still hard to see 10 feet in front of you. But they managed to within 10 minutes get to the cliff from the day before yesterday. "Alright, Heather can you grab the grapple from my backpack." Mark said while backing up to allow Heather to grab the grappled and rope. Heather then wiped snow off a large area and stuck it between the two rocks from earlier and threw the rope down over the side of the cliff. "Alright, as usual. I go first, then Chip and then you Heather." Mark ordered as moved his way to the cliff edge and began to descend. The only thought that went through Chip at this moment was that this, right here and right now was going to be the moment to strike. His Father was already on the rope so all he had to do was deal with Heather first then cut the rope. Once Mark was a little away from the top of the cliff, he stopped for a second and looked up to find Chip still standing there. "Do you need help buddy?" Mark asked. Chip didn't respond. Mark began to get a little concerned, but that changed when he saw Chip reach for the sword he began to panic. Chip in one motion Pulled out the sword and backed up into Heather, causing her to fall backwards. Then he turned around and in one swing cut her legs almost clean off so she couldn't move. Once she was on the ground in agony, Chip moved to the cliff and looked over edge to see Mark climbing tying up, then Chip raised the sword in the air with both hands, he prepared himself to cut the rope and finish the job. "Wait, Chipper, What are you doing!?" Mark freightendly asked. Upon the question being thrown at him, Chip took a deep breath brought the weight of the sword onto the yellow and black rope causing it to split into two pieces. All Chip could hear after that was Mark falling to his death and then a thud after 10 seconds or so. "What have you done!? Have you lost your mind!?" Heather said in outrage. Then Chip turned back around to Heather who only after yelling at him looked terrified. "Wait! don't do this! I-I was dragged into this by Mark, it's all his fault! Look, maybe we can start over. You don't have to kill me, please." She begged. Chip did nothing other than put the sword back in it's scabbard knowing she was to eventually die anyway. "Doesn't matter. I'll let nature take care of you. As you said, 'survival of the fittest' right?" Chip said darkly. Heather took a second to realise what Chip meant by that. "No, look. We're a family Chip, you can't do this!" Heather pleaded once more. Chip only turned away and walked off into the distance away from his guaranteed dead mother. After a 5 minutes went by Chip was finally isolated from the cries of his mother stranded with no way out. Then he found a way around the cliff and down to Mark to grab the equipment and keys he still had on him. To Chip's luck Mark was found laying on the ground with a blood splatter along on a rock just above his lifeless body, Mark himself laid in red stained snow face first. Chip grabbed the keys from one of Marks jacket pockets and took some important family possessions he felt like taking as a reminder of who his parents used to be. After a minute breather to say a final goodbye, Chip left Mark's lifeless body and went back to the plane.

Chip walked to the snow covered plane, slowly and poised by guilt, but yet a slight hint of pride knowing what he had done was right in a way. As he looked from the pure white ground to the lake he once stared across 2 days ago, he was reminded of how things have changed over the years. It broke his heart to know the ones he held so close to him for 13 years where dead. He remembered the times they helped him out, or how they'd care for him and give him emotional support when he needed it. The same support he wished he had right now. But this was for his future to not end up like them, and for Dale who had even in times of danger been on his side thick and thin. This was for the people who his parents violently murdered, the ones who they stole from, and the one innocent guinea pig a year back who as his parents told him was trying to get revenge, just like Chip did right now. Then a cold breeze interrupted Chip's thought, Chip looked back from the lake to the plane. He had remembered it still needed gas to go back. But if he remembered correctly there was some left to see if it was still operational. Chip walked up to the plane dropped the backpacks right next to the plane and pulled the cabin door open, then he jumped in to start it up. Then Chip realised that he had no idea how to start the thing. He immediately began to look through all of the compartments for a manual, he managed to find it under the seat and began to read off the directions presented. After what seemed like a whole 6 minutes, Chip finally managed to get the plane started and running. Then he turned it off and grabbed the large gas can for the plane and went to the gas station, put a twenty in the gas pump and filled the can all the way to the top, went back and filled the fuel tank. Chip ended up repeating this process 3 or 4 times in order to get all of the gas he needed.

Once finished Chip packed whatever he could in the back and started the plane up once again. And got up to an acceptable airspeed before taking off and for his first time he flew through the wind from the blizzard without much trouble just as long as he watched what his plane was doing at the time, constantly referring to the speed meter. After an hour of flight Chip was feeling a little more confident flying and was finally out of the cloud cover from the blizzard. Hours went by and Chip thought to himself, the more he thought the more his guilt plagued him. He knew he could've prevented all of this if he just kept his mouth closed, but at some point this was going to happen. He was just lucky enough to catch then when they were isolated from society for a bit. It still got to him no matter how justified it was, because he knew deep down that they were still good parents, and they did so for his sake. However he understood that his family wasn't the only people in this world and that others were suffering because of his parents existence, and that had to end. After flying the same way they came from and only after another 7 hours of emotional torture, Chip finally came to the area they lived. He circled a few times looking for a good spot and decided to land in the field about 250 meters away from his house. It may have been a rough landing, but this plane was no longer his problem as it was under his parent's name. Chip kicked the cabin door open and grabbed the bags from the back, he began his final trip of this long voyage, and maybe the hardest part, he was going home. But this came with explaining everything to Dale.

(15 minutes later) Chip opened the door that once was their families until now. After pushing the blocky like barrier open. He was once again reminded of his home and the ones he left behind. The room was filled with furniture and bookshelves with stacks of what seemed endless amounts of books existing in this very room. There was a makeshift chandelier dominating the ceiling with it's bright yellow glow. A nice red and blue striped rug to accommodate the all natural wooden floor of the tree. At the back of the room sat Dale. He was reading a comic book on the leather couch along with a little table stand to its right and a small bookshelf to the couch's left. And then the hand made Tv that sat in front of the couch, it was black square with a grey painted wooden cover to cover the internal pieces, along with a dial attached to the side to allow switching channels.

Chip quietly shut the door behind him and walked up to the occupied couch. Every step he took felt like a leep across a building, or as if someone had attached lead blocks to his legs and filled them with pure guilt. Step after step, Chip finally reached the couch with his so to say 'brother' sitting on it. "*Taps Dale's shoulder* Hey, Dale?" Chip asked nervously. His best friend turned around with an annoyed look. "What do ya want, Can't ya see I'm reading here? Say, where's Mom and Dad? Shouldn't they be home by now?" Dale asked in his typical annoyed voice. "About that…" Chip paused for a second to take off his hat and started to wring it out of guilt. "What? Are ya supposed to be apologising for something. Cause if you are, that serves ya right." Dale shunned Chip and turned back to his comic book. "Look, Dale. I.. I-" "Ya what? Cat got your tongue? Just say 'I'm sorry' Ain't that hard ya big dumm-" "Mom and Dad are dead! There, I said it!" Chip yelled. Dale locked up in emotional terror. Chip started to tear up a little, he was just as scared and sad as Dale was. But he was plagued with the guilt of committing murder. "No, that can't be true, are they really dead, Chip?" Dale asked sadly nearly breaking into tears. "They are... And I know because. Because, I'm the one who killed them." Chip admitted as he stared at the floor in guilt and shame. Dale's emotions built up into pure hatred and rage towards Chip. "Why I outta kill you!" Dale yelled while balling up his fists and jumped over the couch, face to face with Chip. Chip held out his hands and tried to explain: "Wait, Dale. I can expla-" Dale punched Chip straight in the nose. Chip tried to back off but fell onto his rump, he covered his mouth with his hand. But blood soon began to start steaming out of his nose, along with that came the sensation of tasting blood from the bruised and torn gums in his mouth. Dale stood over Chip and was about to strike him again but he needed to know what happened. "Yah better have a good reason!" Dale demanded from Chip. Chip collected most of the blood in his mouth and spat it out next to him. "Dale. Mom and Dad weren't the people we thought they where, they lied to us our entire lives-" Dale kicked Chip in the face. "How dare you say that! They'd never do that, and you kill them over it!? Why I outta strangle you to death for lyin!" Chip sat back up, trying to recover from Dale's kick. Dale then picked up Chip by his jacket and threw him onto the table Right of the couch. Dale held Chip in place, his eyes radiating anger, he had one hand holding onto Chip's jacket and the other balled into a fist ready to strike if need be. "Tell me how they lied to us. If ya don't I'll make sure this is your last time you open your mouth!" Dale ordered. Chip was truly scared of Dale, he has never heard Dale be this serious, or actually hurt him in a fight. Usually it was just wrestling, but this was beyond a different matter. "Ok, ok! Just listen, please… It was on the Rockies. We, we ended up in a blizzard. Once we were in a outcrop they had an argument and I overheard that they were criminals. I at first questioned them, but then they told me some of the stories. After the things they did to people and the people they were, I couldn't forgive them. So, so when we started hiking back down the mountain, during the same blizzard, I killed them. So I didn't do it out of-" Dale punched Chip straight in the throat and threw him onto the ground. Chip laid on the ground struggling to breathe correctly. Dale continued to stand where he was, stunned. He never knew his parents were criminals. Dale didn't know what to do, he was taught his whole life that his parents were good. As much as Dale loved his parents, he himself couldn't forgive them for lying to him and Chip for so long, along with hiding their crimes right under their noses. Along with the fact he knew Chip had good reasoning. So whatever they did, it must've been pretty terrible. His anger and confusion subsided and turned into sorrow. Dale waited a minute or so for Chip to breathe right before asking: "What did they do?" Dale asked disheartedly. Chip sat up and coughed a few times while still held his throat like he was out of air. "They told me. *Cough* That they one time peeled a person's skin off to interrogate them. They eventually died *Cough, Cough* Another time they cut someone up and kept them alive until they gave them the gold and money they asked for. Then they killed him since he was going to be unable to *Cough* Provide anymore 'goods' for the organisation their in. That was only half of what *Cough* they did. Not to mention what their organisation did. And worst of all, they were the ones who killed your parents. And, they were going to come back with me to 'dispose' of you since you failed to prove to them something." Chip answered in a raspy voice. Dale signed out of stress, and depression. "Alright, Chip.. I forgive you. But ya still deserve what ya got for killin them." Chip nodded as he understood that it wasn't the best way to deal with his parents. "Thanks." Chip said Thankfully. "So, what do we do now?" Dale asked. Chip looked over to Dale and knew that they would have to change. While he and Dale often got in little squabbles, they were very good friends, and would die for eachother if it came to it. "Well, we'll have to get whatever we can, and live our own lives. And we'll stick together. And never, tell this to anybody. Not even our last names will be mentioned. People can't know about our parents. We don't know how many hate my last name because of my parents. And if they find it out we're their sons. We might not be living the next day, you got that Dale?" Chip said sounding dead serious. Dale nodded, but he had his own questions: "You'll promise we stay together as friends? No matter what?" Dale deeply asked his long life friend. Chip mustered some of his strength to get up and walk up to Dale. "Friends forever doesn't sound like a bad thing." Chip then held out a hand. Dale gladly accepted. "Friends forever." Dale remarked as the two shook hands with a smile. Assuring their mutual friendship forever.

The next month Chip and Dale left everything behind and started a new life all around the U.S. They from time to time stumbled on people who considered them enemies like that one duck, and the pet dog of a mouse. And for 7 or 9 years they spent their lives out in the wild with one goal, to live. They of course had a few love interests but nothing beyond dating, and with life getting old and them being tired causing trouble. Chip and Dale decided that they needed to do something of importance. Thus they decided to get into what they left behind so long ago. Chip grabbed his old jacket, and Dale grabbed his shirt, the duo then headed off to New york city in search of a purpose or place in society, but leaving their last names and their past absent from who they were, and instead identified off the 9 years they spent in the forest. By the year 1989, they had found their place amount a small group of friends they called the Rescue Rangers. With their hidden story being kept secret, until today.

Story of Chip Maplewood: - 4.8.2008 :End:

(Actual Author: Erich Westhoven. Started February 23rd 2018, Finished May 3rd 2018 )

How many words you just read: 18,903

-Authors note: Welcome to the unofficial part of the story, so if you don't care what I have to say, the you might want to skip this… Now, those of you who do want to see my note, welcome. This is my first published writing, and a bit of character development for another story I am writing called C.N.A (Chip's new adventures) This is used mainly for some well needed feedback, as a new writer I require feedback to get better. I am fine with almost all criticism. That is if it has a purpose or a reason. I accept that This isn't the pinnacle of writing and I understand I this may be sub-par. But all I need to know is a where my skill lies right now, and I will continue to work my way from there. Thank you for those who have read my story and thank those again who can give me constructive criticism. It helps me as a writer and you as a reader to have an overall better experience. Now I wish the best of luck to everybody and may life go well for all of you. Erich Westhoven, writing-out.