Below is Michael Brother's suicide note:
My Friends...for I have always thought of you as my friends, perhaps the only ones I have ever had. This to say goodbye to you all. By the time you find this I hope that I have gone far away into the distant land and taken the road less travelled.
It's around three in the morning and I haven't slept. I just went into the bedroom and whispered to Christina and little Jenny that I was sorry that I had failed them. I think they might have heard me from where they had gone. It made me feel a small bit better.
There are so many things that I could say, but time passes and I have a date with a rope. My first nineteen years were spent in closed order in Nil-Vanity, and I thought that I was happy. But I know now that I wasn't. Happiness is trying new things, new foods, new places. The day you give up on that is the day they measure you for a long wooden box. Then I was trawled into the Deathlands. A place of horrors, violence and brutality and ------- But I also found values I never dreamed of. - courage, humor and loyalty. So many, many things. Someone somewhere once said that the definition of courage was grace under pressure, didn't they mildred. You told me that, I think.
Don't aim to bore you, so Dean can relax. The last weeks seem to have been more and more difficult for me. Dark shadows at my shoulder and like a trap with no way out of it. The business with Dorothy was HARD. I felt like a man trying to run through quicksand. The harder you try, the quicker you sink. Then what happened yesterday... well, that was about the end of the line for me. Time to take what J.B. calls the last train to the coast, I guess. I wasn't like I didn't want to go and try to help Christina... I can't properly explain. Still blurred in my mind. I swear it wasn't that I was scared. Not scared of dying. Truthfully, just couldn't move. Couldn't. Couldn't. Couldn't.
First to Dean. You were the nearest thing I have ever had to a true companion. Dean forgive me for being such a shithead the past few days. Try to remember the old Michael. That would be the hot pipe way.
I know how you value the skills of combat J.B. and I feel I let you down badly. But you said that failure brought its own price. By the time you read this, I'll have paid that price. Keep your blasters oiled.
I wish I'd been able to have the time to sit down and talk more, Krysty. About your 'Seeing'.... and all that. I guess there are plenty more regrets if I thought about it. Sorry if I let you down as well.
Had some laughs didn't we Doc? First off I thought that you were a stupe old fart. Now that it's too late, I know better. Your a wise old fart. Don't ever change. And every now and then think of your young friend from the past. What was that line you once said about forgetting and smiling?
I never knew you properly Jak, but Ryan and the rest kept mentioning you. I know that they all admired you and the way you've handled yourself. Certainly I like you a lot and I guess that I can say that I actually loved Christina and the baby. I know that you'll go to your grave blaming me for it. Well, I'm off to mine in a couple of minutes, and I swear that I'll die with their faces in my mind's eye. I am so sorry, Jak. If I could think that one day you might find it in your heart to forgive me... Well it'll make eternity easier to handle.
I have a feeling that you'll read this one yourself, Ryan. I never met a man that I respected more than you. You taught me a load of things and saved my life again and again. But one thing I learned was that I wasn't a winner like you. And like the Trader you talked about. Fact is, I reckon I'm a bit of a loser. And losers come second, don't they? Specially in the dark hole of the Deathlands. Yesterday I stood by and hid while the black hats slaughtered two good people. I couldn't help that. I really couldn't. I said that before in this letter, haven't I? But tomorrow I might do the same thing and be the cause of you, Krysty, Dean, and the others getting to buy the farm. I know how you all rely on one another to the point of death. Well, you couldn't rely on me in the same way Ryan. Now it'll never be a problem.
It seems a pity, but I don't think I can write anymore. Truth is I'm crying while I try to finish. See the wrinkled bits on the page where my tears are falling? But you mustn't cry for me, any of you. I think that this is one of the best things that I ever did. And it'll take me, I believe, to a far, far better place than I have ever known. So long, all of you, and try to be careful out there.
Your friend from the past, Michael Brother.