Madame Atomos Spits Fire Read online

  André Caroff’s

  MADAME ATOMOS

  #10 –Madame Atomos Spits Fire

  Translated by

  Michael Shreve

  A Black Coat Press Book

  Introduction

  This volume collects the tenth installment of the saga of Madame Atomos, a series of 18 novels published between 1964 and 1970 in the Angoisse horror imprint of French publisher Fleuve Noir.1 Our introduction to Volume 1 contains a biography of its author, André Carpouzis, a.k.a. André Caroff (1924-2009). More information about Fleuve Noir and its popular brands of science fiction and horror can be found in the introductions to the other volumes translated from their imprints and published by Black Coat Press: Richard Bessière’s The Gardens of the Apocalypse, Gérard Klein’s The More in Time’s Eye and Kurt Steiner’s Ortog.

  The saga of Madame Atomos (her real name is Kanoto Yoshimuta) is about a brilliant but twisted middle-aged female Japanese scientist who is out for revenge against the United States for the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki—where she was born, and where her family died in the nuclear holocaust.

  Madame Atomos seeks to repay the United States by unleashing deadly new threats, such as radioactive zombies, giant spiders, a madness-inducing ray, flaming tornadoes, etc. The heroes opposing her are Smith Beffort of the FBI, Dr. Alan Soblen, and Yosho Akamatsu of the Japanese Secret Police.

  Volume 4 introduced the character of Mie Azusa, a.k.a. Miss Atomos, a younger version of Madame Atomos, groomed to continue the fight in the event of her death.

  In Volumes 5 and 6, after Mie fell in love with Smith Beffort, she joined the fight against the deadly Madame Atomos who, in the meantime, had returned from the dead.

  In Volumes 7 and 8, Madame Atomos overreaches and the US Army finally destroys her powerful flying fortress. With her organization in shambles, she is forced to regroup, while increasingly devoting all her energies to achieve revenge on Smith Beffort and Mie…

  Now read on…

  Jean-Marc Lofficier

  MADAME ATOMOS SPITS FIRE

  Chapter I

  Nevada has high mountains more than anything else on both its western and eastern borders. The northeast of the state is a desert. The weather is dry with very little rain—the annual precipitation is around six inches. The winter is very cold in the mountains, but very mild in the desert region. The summer is cool and dry in the mountains, but very hot in the desert.

  Jamie Jenkins dried his glasses, which were fogged up from his sweat. He wiped his forehead and neck, literally peeled his back off the seat of his Ford and lit a menthol cigarette. Jenkins came from Great Falls, Montana, and was not used to such heat. It was August 1967. The guidebook Jenkins was reading said that the summers were very hot in the desert. In fact, it was a witch’s cauldron.

  Jenkins looked up and saw his wife filming the desert a few feet from the car. It was just like Carole to have these quirky ideas. Highway 50 stretched out between Reno and Austin as far as the eye could see and there was absolutely nothing to film except a few cactus that looked like ghosts. As for colors, maybe there was something, but Jenkins highly doubted it.

  “So,” he said softly like a man dying of thirst, “is the movie over?”

  Carole turned around. She was filming this desert hell through a telephoto lens! Jenkins was breathless.

  “Come and see, dear,” she said kindly. “There’s something burning out there in the background.”

  “Did you film it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, I’ll look at it in the shade, in the cool air, with an ice-cold soda in my hand. Come on, let’s go.”

  Carole swished over to him. She was very pretty and Jamie still loved her with a passion. Especially when she swished like that…

  “Come and see, Jamie. I guarantee it’s fabulous.”

  “Listen, honey, I’m hot…”

  “The desert’s burning!”

  He burst out laughing and slapped his knee. Then he managed to say, “Since we stopped, that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to make you understand! The desert’s burning hot and I’m melting like butter. Get in the car, honey, and I’ll buy you a drink of whatever you want in the fanciest restaurant in Reno, okay?”

  Carole pinched her pretty little nose, put on her pouty face and said, “You’re not curious, Jamie. That’s your problem.”

  “Listen, honey, I sell vacuum cleaners all year long to people who don’t need them. I have to be curious all the time to know which of their friends still don’t have one. Right now I’m on vacation and I’m not curious. But I am thirsty!”

  “Well,” Carole lost her temper, “I tell you the desert’s burning and you just sit there! How can a bunch of rocks and sand be burning?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care,” he shot back furiously. “If you don’t get in the car right now, I’ll leave you in the middle of this god-forsaken road!”

  “Jamie!” She swung around abruptly and started striding toward Reno.

  “There she goes throwing another tantrum,” Jamie growled. He started the engine and caught up to her, yelling, “Totally cracked! She sees a fire in the desert and wants to walk back to Reno! Carole! Get in the car this instant!”

  “No. You can go. I’ll hitchhike back.”

  Upset now, he looked in front and behind but did not see a single car on the horizon. “Okay, see you tonight!”

  He slammed on the gas and the Ford lurched forward, kicking up a cloud of dust. Jenkins drove for a while, alone and livid. “I’ll show her! She takes me for a sucker… no kidding… by the time I get to Reno, I’ll have time to get stinking drunk! Ha! We’ll see who has the last laugh.”

  He drove at full speed for a mile, gradually let off the gas and finally stopped completely. Far behind him Carole’s silhouette was marching boldly onward. But even farther back a trail of dust meant that a car was coming on fast. Jenkins made a sharp U-turn. He did not want just any guy getting Carole into his car.

  He reached her first, turned around again, opened the door and said, “Climb in, honey, it’s too hot to be walking in the sun.”

  She did not look at him, did not answer, just kept walking as if nothing was happening. In his rear-view mirror Jenkins saw the enemy car tearing down the road.

  “If you hitchhike,” he threatened, “I’ll get a divorce! In Reno they do it in a jiffy!”

  She threw him a scornful look, walked around the Ford, crossed the road and started walking toward Austin. All of a sudden he jumped out of the car, sprinted to her and grabbed her arm. “Listen, Carole,” he said flatly, “don’t push me.”

  They had been married for six months and the smallest argument still turned into a tragedy. “You don’t love me anymore,” she said, gritting her teeth, anxious and stressed.

  “Me! Damn it all, come on!”

  She turned to face him, her eyes glistening with tears. “Don’t be crude, Jamie,” she said sadly.

  Just then the car passed by, honking its horn as a greeting and the two of them disappeared in a thick cloud. When the dust settled, they were in each other’s arms, coughing up a storm. It was really ridiculous. Jenkins spit, brushed off his clothes, coughed again loudly and decided, “Okay, let’s go, no more acting like children.”

  She hugged him close and kissed him. “Thanks, Jamie, I knew you’d end up wanting to see the fire.”

  That was not at all what he meant to say, but he was in no mood to argue anymore. After all, he was older and since some one had to give in…

  “Okay, where’s the fire? I can’t even see any smoke.”

  “Exactly!” she was excited. “That’s what’s fantastic! The desert is burning in only one spot as if it was spitting out a
jet of burning gas. But there’s no one around.”

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “With the lens,” she was delighted to offer.

  He took the terribly heavy camera by its f=1000m lens (he always wondered how Carole could lug around such a thing with a smile on her face) and pointed it north.

  “Nothing’s there,” he said after three seconds.

  “You’re something else. If you don’t find it at first sight, you give up. Just like with your socks.”

  He shot her a cold stare. “Don’t start with that again, okay?”

  Sometimes when he used this tone it was a snap. This time, Carole snapped. “We’re not going to start anything again, but I want you to see the fire. Now look at where I’m pointing.”

  He looked and with his bare eye saw a little red dot flickering between the dunes. “That’s your fire?”

  “Now, Jamie, look through the lens,” she said kindly.

  He pointed the camera at the target and did, in fact, see a flame rising from the ground, straight up, like a candle flame in a room without a draft. “That’s weird,” he said.

  “Ha! You see!”

  “It’s inexplicable.”

  “I told you so! And to think that you were ready to divorce me because of your stupid bull-headedness.”

  “Okay,” he said distractedly, “I was wrong… I wonder what’s going on out there?” Now he was more intrigued than his wife. “Never seen such a thing, Carole. If we’re going to take a drive in the car…”

  “You’re kidding,” she said, but she was tempted. “The car would never make it on this land.”

  “Let’s try. If it gets too hard, we’ll continue on foot. How far is that fire?”

  “A mile, maybe less. Right. So you want to go?”

  He did not answer right away, just grumbled something that she did not understand.

  “What’s wrong, Jamie?”

  “It’s funny, but I have the feeling that the flame is a little bigger now,” he said tensely. “In the middle of the desert that’s amazing.”

  They heard the sound of an engine and looked toward Reno. A car was speeding toward down the road. When it reached them, it slowed down and stopped. The driver, a man in his fifties, rolled down the window and said, “I was passing by a little while ago and I saw you on the side of the road. I thought you might be broken down. But I guess everything’s all right?”

  Jamie Jenkins could not have been jealous of this old coot. “Thanks,” he said amiably, “we were just watching the desert burn.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Get out and come see this. I swear it’s worth a look.”

  The man opened his door, got out, looked around and, of course, saw nothing. He said so and Jenkins handed him the camera, pointing to where he should look.

  The man jumped and shouted, “Good God! On my word, I’ve been living in this area for ten years and I’ve never seen anything like it!” He lowered the camera, looked with his naked eye and stated, “Not a wisp of smoke. It’s like an oil fire.”

  “Ha!” Carole gloated. “I said the same thing to my husband just a minute ago.”

  “The problem,” Schindler said, “is that there’s no oil in this area. I wonder if we’re not seeing a mirage?”

  “A mirage?”

  “Sure. Clouds reflecting the rays of light so that we can perfectly imagine that we’re seeing a fire that’s actually burning miles away. Except, from what I understand, this optical illusion is seen upside down. And the fire we’re seeing looks totally normal.” He bit his lip and added, “Before informing the police, we should go out and verify…”

  “Exactly,” Jenkins said. “We were just talking about that when you pulled up.”

  “Okay. Let’s all go,” Schindler proposed. “We can shoot out there in the car in no time.”

  “”Can we drive out there?” Carole asked.

  “Naturally! There’s about four inches of sand on the surface but underneath it’s all stones. Do you want to take my car?”

  “Sure,” Jenkins accepted.

  Carole climbed into the back and her husband sat next to Schindler, who started up, cut across the road and plunged his car into the desert. The car held up admirably, in spite of a little skidding, and reached the dune relatively fast.

  “Now,” Carole said, “the way is blocked.”

  “I’ll try to get over it,” Schindler decided.

  “If I were you,” Jenkins said, “I would take a second look. The sand is thick here and your car might get stuck. Besides, we can continue on foot. Look, the fire is less than half a mile away.”

  Schindler hesitated, but ended up getting out to get a better look at the landscape. The flames were still far. Nevertheless, they could see them in plain sight and the effect was staggering. The site of the fire was on a kind of plateau, with a few cactus around the edges, but at a distance. In fact, they had the feeling that this bit of sand and rock had been specially prepared by nature so that it could, some day, produce such an extraordinary event.

  “I don’t know if you see the same thing,” Schindler said, “but I have the feeling that the fire is spreading.”

  “I was saying that to my wife just before you arrived,” Jenkins said. His voice was serious, almost solemn. Unconsciously he sensed a threat, but of course nothing in the world could have forced him to admit it. However, his tone had an effect on the two others so that a long silence fell over the small group.

  They stayed there, stuck in the soft dune, staring at the relentless fire and strangely feeling more and more uneasy. Carole got hold of herself first. She was the youngest and reacted more quickly, maybe because she was not trying to understand. “So, we’ve grown roots or what? I think we should get closer.”

  Men do not like women to take the initiative when it is a matter of their competence. “Let’s leave the car where it is,” Jenkins proposed. “It’s better that way.”

  “Okay,” is all Schindler said.

  They started walking, found more solid ground and then moved faster. On the way, they watched the flames shooting up from the ground so evenly that they looked like they were coming out a burner of a gas stove. Moreover, they were clearly spreading farther out every minute, slowly, like a well-regulated machine.

  “I’m not going any farther,” Schindler said.

  “Why not?” Jenkins inquired, hiding his satisfaction.

  “The flames are forming a semi-circle. Hey, look!”

  A small flame had just broken away, crawling toward them, zigzagging between the rocks.

  “My God,” Carole said, “it’s like the fire felt us and is coming after us.” It was ridiculous, but neither of the men made a comment.

  The flame arrived, twisted around, streaking upwards a couple of feet and quickly moving to encircle them.

  “Let’s go!” Schindler shouted. “This isn’t natural!” He abruptly turned around, but found another streak of flame that had not been there a second ago.

  “Lord!” Carole screamed. “We’re surrounded by fire!” She jumped aside because a flame had just shot up between her legs, but she ran into another, stumbled, fell and howled in the inferno. Her husband tried to help her, but he was pushed back by the biting flames. He bumped into Schindler whose clothes were burning and who was screaming horribly. Then he collapsed and sunk into unbelievable pain.

  Chapter II

  Anita Perez was an exotic dancer in a Reno nightclub. She started work at 8 p.m. and finished at 4 in the morning. For eight hours, six days a week, she breathed the stale air of the club, the smell of sweat, alcohol and tobacco and she only held up because she aired out her lungs by going for a walk along Lake Walker. Today Anita was taking her regular stroll with less enthusiasm than usual. She was in a bad period, with a little stomachache and the heat was unbearable. She went back to her car, took off her sweat suit, slipped on her skirt and sat behind the wheel. Since the clock on the dashboard showed that it was only 4 p.m., she decid
ed to take a little drive. If she opened all the windows and drove fast, she could get a little air.

  She got onto Highway 95 at full speed, slowed down to turn onto 50 and hit the gas again. Anita loved speed but knew how to be careful when the situation demanded. So she lifted her foot when she saw a car parked strangely on the shoulder even though there was a place a little farther up. She gave it room as she passed by and was surprised to see that it was empty and there was nobody around.

  She stopped, put her car in reverse and parked in front of Jenkins’ Ford. Then she got out. She was not particularly curious, but was reacting normally to an unusual situation. It was the desert here. A desert is always a worry, even with a well-paved highway running through it. Anita had heard of people breaking down between Reno and Austin. They did not die of thirst like in the days of the Old West, but they still wandered for hours before being picked up by the highway patrol.

  What was really weird was that the car was facing toward Reno. Now, Anita had just come from that direction and had seen no one walking. If the owner of the Ford had had a mechanical problem, common sense would obviously lead them to the closest city, which was Reno. Anita examined the car, climbed in, started the engine and rolled a few feet without any difficulty. So, it was not a breakdown. She jumped out, shaded her eyes and looked out at the desert. As far as the eye could see, there was not a soul in sight. However, she easily spotted Schindler’s car sitting on the dune.

  She went back to the Ford and honked the horn five or six times to attract attention. No one showed up or answered from the other car. If Anita did not have a stomachache, she would certainly have seen if there was someone in the other car. In the present case, she got back in her Chrysler, whipped it around and headed back to Reno. She planned to inform the police.

  The car was rolling calmly down the road at 6 p.m. It contained two cops who were delighted to get out of the city in such heat. They were in no hurry to get back.