ReBirth: An Oryx and Crake Fanfic
Snowman wished he hadn't approached the people. It was not like they shot him or attacked him. That would have been better. At least he wouldn't have to think. Thinking was hard nowadays. He wasn't expecting them to just let a naked hairy guy to have a meal with them. Even the way they let him was quite unexpected; he thought that there'd be rocks thrown at him, or they'd start yelling, threatening him, or maybe they'll shoot him.
That's the common approach that man would hold when he witnesses something out of the common, he'd respond with hostility to possible hostility, he heard. It was a male voice, some old professor from Martha Stewart, possibly. He'd forgotten.
The fire crackled, and the darker skinned man turned the rakunk stick over. Snowman eyed each person carefully, starting from the woman at his right, then the man with the rakunk stick, then the white man who sat silently to his own left. He wondered if they thought he stank.
He knew that they would ask about his story. They've told him theirs. It would only be a matter of time before any of the men- or the woman would open his or her mouth and say-… "You haven't touched the rakunk yet." It was the woman, the one who said that she used to be a bar girl of some sort, who said it.
Snowman eyed the rakunk, remembering his pet rakunk, Killer. No, it was Jimmy's pet rakunk. He ignored his aversion, and bit into the tender roasted meat. It was a long time since he last ate some real meat, not fish, or nuts and berries, or the canned sort. There was an odd end to the taste, but he ate it anyway, biting strips of meat off. The others were doing the same. He felt perplexed. The rest of the "people" were unnaturally placid. They were like the Crakers, like aged, clothed Crakers. But maybe it was because of the change. Maybe they've already lost their minds, Snowman thought, like me.
"So how did you come here? How did you survive?" Here it came, the fated question. It was the dark-skinned man this time. In his head, Snowman has already made an idea of what to say. He'd say the truth, part of it. One, he was an ordinary worker of Rejoov. Two, he was not that aware that the BlyssPluss pills contained the deadly virus. Nobody in his sector was quite aware of it (which was also true, only Crake knew, and maybe Oryx, but he wouldn't like to think of that). In the case he would be asked about Crake (which would be unlikely, hopefully), he'd say that he never personally met him, but he was a well-known bigshot in Rejoov. That way it'd sound convincing enough. When asked how he survived (which was likely), he'd say that he sneaked in the Paradice Dome, in the flurry of the people escaping. He thought he would be dead, and he hid in a storeroom, but someone locked him in. He got stuck for days and he had nothing to eat, but there were boxes and boxes of some sort of fluid that smelled nice. He sustained himself with this liquid. One day, as he was checking out the boxes, he found a large hammer, which he used to bash open a window. It worked, and he discovered himself among the Crakers. The Crakers helped nursed his wounds (which was probably possible, through their purring, and he considered his foot for a moment, which although, still pained, worked considerably better than what he expected). He'd then add that he didn't know the Crakers much, but they were gentle creatures, but they were really weird and all. That's where he'd end, living near a group of hospitable humanoids, until he saw these real people. It wasn't entirely believable. He would have fibbed more if necessary, which was what he did.
The other party seemed to be satisfied enough with his story. Soon, the white man said something about needing to leave; and the woman asked Snowman whether or not he would like to go with them. Snowman shook his head, he couldn't; he had to take care of the Crakers. But he didn't say that, he said that he would go on and look for more survivors, which was reason enough for them. But he told them that once he was done, he would join them. That seemed to have pleased the woman and the dark-skinned man. He asked him for their contact info, if they have any. They told him to look for them in a well-known building in the pleeblands. He knew the place. He would visit often. That was fine. The three left, leaving Snowman alone with himself again. Himself, his voices and his responsibility.
I haven't read the Year of the Flood yet, so I haven't much idea of what else happened. So sorry for the inconsistencies.