The Fifth Di... June 2017

By J Alan Erwine

A soul collector is murdered and taken into the “city” his father designed for the dead, now he must plot to escape and get revenge on his murderer in Dale Carother’s “Haunting the Painted City.” A magical mirror allows an unexpected glimpse into the past in Matthew Spence’s “The Mirror.” In the future, corporations still control elections, but what about when politicians decide to fight back is what awaits you in Eamonn Murphy’s “Campaign Trail.” Finally, one man is sent to the great void between galaxies and forced to face his own loneliness in Robert N. Stephenson’s “The Black Canvas.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nomadic Delirium Press
• Release date: May 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370662296

J Alan Erwine

J Erwine was born Oct. 15, 1969 in Akron, Ohio. Early in his life he was exposed to science, and specifically astronomy. From there on, J's passion turned to science fiction, a passion that's never died. Due to family issues, J eventually found himself in Denver, Colorado, where he still lives (well, right outside now.) From the time he could put subject and predicate together on paper, J has been writing stories. None of those early stories exist anymore (thankfully), but that passion for writing has never waned. After several years of rejection, the story Trek for Life was eventually sold to ProMart Writing Lab editor James Baker. It wasn't Asimov's, but it was a start. Since that time J has sold more than forty short stories to various small press publishers. In addition ProMart also published a short story collection of J's entitled Lowering One's Self Before Fate, and other stories, which is still available. ProMart also published a novel from J entitled The Opium of the People, which sold a few copies before going out of print. The relevance of the novel after the events of September 11th caused J to self-publish the novel, as he felt the story had a lot to say in the new reality we now find ourselves living in. Now, this same book has been re-released by Nomadic Delirium Press. Eventually J would become an editor with ProMart. Then, after the untimely death of ProMart editor James Baker, J would move on to ProMart's successor Sam's Dot Publishing. J also spends most of his time working as a freelance writer and editor. J's novel was voted a top ten finisher in the 2003 annual Preditors & Editors contest, and his short story The Galton Principle won a ProMart contest for best story over 5,000 words. In addition, a number of his stories have been voted "best of" in various issue of The Martian Wave and The Fifth DI… and have been included in Wondrous Web Worlds Vols. 2, 3, 4, and 6. In 2009, the Ephemeris Role Playing Game was released. J is the co-creator of this game, and has written numerous supplements for the game. J has now sold three novels and four short story collections, all of which are still available from various sources, including Smashwords. J currently lives with his amazing wife, three wonderful children, three cats, and a very quiet turtle.

Book preview

THE FIFTH DI…

June 2017

Edited by J Alan Erwine

Published by Nomadic Delirium Press at Smashwords

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright 2017 by Nomadic Delirium Press

All stories are copyrighted in the names of their respective authors

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any informational storage and retrieval system, without the written consent of the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passes in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, broadcast, etc.

Nomadic Delirium Press

Aurora, Colorado

Table of Contents

Haunting the Painted City by Dale Carothers

The Mirror by Matthew Spence

Campaign Trail by Eamonn Murphy

The Black Canvas by Robert N. Stephenson

Haunting the Painted City

By Dale Carothers

Zaide knew which house was haunted. The missing door made it obvious.

It was yet another modest house standing in a long row along the river: thin and tall, with several pairs of narrow windows and a high-peaked roof. It was a neighborhood of craftsmen; carvers, clockmakers, bakers and butchers.

Whoa, Coalblack! Zaide called to the albino donkey that pulled the cart. He never understood why his father thought the name was so funny, but his father had left him his livelihood—the donkey and the cart—so he’d best not complain.

Zaide dropped to the cobbled street, pulled the letter from his jacket and compared the address to wooden numbers near the door.

2356 Lysy Street, City of Uulski, home of Alojzy Wach and family.

Zaide passed through the doorframe. A steep stairway rose along the left wall, and a hallway ran parallel to the stairs leading to the kitchen. The front room lay off to his right. Within, the Wach family filled only a few of the many chairs arranged near a coffin made mostly of their front door.

A cheap copy of Daily Prayers to the Undersoul sat on an empty chair. Printed on its curling yellow cover was the symbol of the Church of the Undersoul. A black ring around a solid white circle, depicting a dark life on the surface and the everlasting joy of the great Undersoul in the center of the world. The church hated how Zaide’s machine interfered with a soul’s progress into the afterlife. He’d have to be careful, and get out of town quick after the job was done.

Zaide spied a long table full of uneaten kielbasa, pierogi and potatoes. He helped himself to a lump of fried cheese that’d been carved into the shape of a duck.

Biting the duck’s head off he said, I got your letter.

They all turned. Some of them reared back and the two little girls squealed and covered their eyes.

A man with a graying push-broom mustache got up. He, like all the others, wore funeral black over white shirts. Colorful flowers had been embroidered into the lapels of his vest and the necklines of the women’s dresses.

Zaide the Ghost Man?

Ghost Collector, yes, Zaide said, putting out his hand. Mr. Wach?

Please, call me Alojzy.

Alojzy gave Zaide’s hand a limp shake.

What can I do for you?

It’s my mother, Alojzy said. She won’t leave, and others, he motioned to the prayer book, were unable to help us.

Don’t worry, Zaide said, smiling. It won’t be a problem.

For you, maybe. But for us… Alojzy shrugged …look at my girls. Frightened to death by a woman who used to care for them.

Two little blonde girls, their hair tied back in funeral kerchiefs, pressed against their mother, red faced and wet eyed.

What’s the trigger?

Alojzy tilted his head. Huh?

What makes her appear?

Knocking on the coffin.

Zaide shook his head. That’s why there were so many empty chairs. It’d only take a few knocks on the coffin—the traditional final visit—before everyone but the family had run screaming from the house.

And where does she appear?

The stairs.

Please, if you would, knock on the coffin.

The crying began anew and Mrs. Wach cooed comforting words to her daughters. The only other man; a crusty hatchet faced codger who bore a close resemblance to Alojzy—likely a brother, crossed his arms and fixed a scowl on his face.

No, Alojzy said.

Why not? Zaide asked.

I want my mother to be at peace. I don’t want to keep bothering her.

Please, Zaide said. Just one more time, just so that I can see what happens.

Alojzy sat on his hands, and his family did the same.

Zaide walked over and rapped his knuckles on the coffin.

The stairs creaked and then an old woman in a night shirt faded