No Sorrow Like Separation (The Commander Book 5) by Randall Farmer

ribs and said “that was you, dipshit” before I remembered I had done the dirty deeds.  I found this interesting; the media identified me as the California Spree Killer, even though the Feds had not.
    The media presented both sides for once.  I was amazed.  Some intrepid soul had gotten into whatever prison Zielinski resided in and he had cooperated, willing to tell the world what life looked like from an Arm’s perspective.  Juice cravings.  Kill or die.  Trying to figure out who to kill and who not to kill.  The horrific burden of being forced to choose between inventing your own morality or dying.  The effects of the FBI’s abuse of me in St. Louis.  “They chained her to a post and shot her up, just to see how quickly she was able to move and how many bullet wounds she would be able to live through.”
    Gilgamesh felt locked in his head, thinking hard thoughts.  I spent some time comforting him, rubbing his shoulders.  I remained conflicted about how I felt about him.  I loved him in some screwy Arm fashion, but he wasn’t my lover.  He was a possession, but he was also unownable.  Few of my emotions toward him made any sense to me.
    “Zielinski’s good,” Keaton said.  “He knows enough to have damned both of us for eternity in the eyes of the public, but he didn’t.”
    He was ours.  He would never have done such a thing.  Or did I extrapolate too much?  I wished more things made sense to me.
    “The media has never done this before.  Present our side,” I said.  “Have they?”
    Keaton shook her head.  “We’ve always been fully demonized.  However, there’s blood in the water and this is just another way for the sharks to take a bite out of the President and the current administration.  Two months from now I’m sure we’ll be demons again.”
    “He’s one of your gang, isn’t he?” Gilgamesh said.  He meant Zielinski.
    “That’s ‘one of us’, kiddo,” Keaton said.
    “He’s famous, important, even known to the Crows,” Gilgamesh said.  “I’ve read all his research papers.”
    “Someday soon you need to make his acquaintance,” Keaton said.  “Despite your panic around doctors and researchers.”
    “It’s a common Crow problem around most doctors.  We don’t trust them.”
    “Neither do I, but him you trust.  Your life may depend on it.”  Pause.  “Mine did.”
    Scary words from Keaton.  This was from the part of her I didn’t know.
    The special news report went on and on and on.  Most was dull and repetitive; they presented both sides and I found the other side, the demonizers, less than interesting.  I already knew I was evil.  They didn’t have to prove my evilness to me.
    “Look at this!” Keaton said, true amazement in her voice.  The special had about fifteen minutes left to go and they were dragging out something on the Chimeras.  The media called them Male Monsters, but named them correctly as one of the four types of Major Transforms.  Four types.  This was new for the media.  They had a grainy movie of one, sort of like home movies of the Loch Ness Monster, on his way to attack a Clinic in Minneapolis.  I had seen that grainy home movie before, on a local Chicago station.  They reported many other sightings, as well.
    “When did they discover Crows, ma’am?”  The media knew about Focuses and Arms, of course.  Chimeras made three, and that left Crows as the fourth.  One – two – three – four!  Logic!
    “Remember Zielinski’s story about the Crow who attacked the people in the hospital in Atlanta with bad juice?  While the Feds held you, the Washington Post dug up some old records of three other similar incidents.  They also dug up the fact that in India the Crows are a part of the Transform community. They’re secretive and called ‘Creatures of the Night’, but they’re out there.  I’m guessing the Crows themselves leaked much of this to the media.  Certainly they leaked the Crow name to the