"Come here." Amelia led Michelle to a small section of the wall, next to the North doors. AMELIA had been carved into the stone. Handing Michelle a knife, Amelia gestured at the wall. "Go ahead, and carve your name."
Michelle took the knife and steadied her hand. A neat M was soon scratched onto the wall, followed by an I. Soon the name MICHELLE was etched in the rock.
Michelle now felt at home. Really, unless she got caught outside of the walls after sundown, there was nothing to be scared about. She and Amelia had reasoned that if more people came up in the Box, they could teach them to get along with the other people. They could have specific jobs. Runners. Medics, which they'd decided to call Med-jacks. Builders. Cooks. Gardeners, or Track-hoes. The people who took care of the animals, bred them, killed them for food, Slicers. The people who kept things clean would be called Sloppers. Other jobs would come. The Runners would have to be the best of the best, the strongest, the fastest, the smartest. Each job would have someone in charge, a Keeper. The Keepers would meet together to discuss important matters, and those meetings would be called Gatherings. Open Gatherings would be when everyone was to attend and listen, to ensure that any decisions made in them benefited the majority, and closed Gatherings would be only the Keepers. Runners would be chosen by the keepers at Gatherings, and the Maze would be off-limits to everyone who wasn't a Runner. Anyone who disrupted the peace or broke the rules would be banished into the Maze at sundown, but only if what they did was major. If it wasn't something big, they'd be kept in the little prison behind the Homestead, the Slammer.
"Come on. We have to feed the bloody animals in the Bloodhouse," Amelia said. That was what the barn was called. Michelle nodded, still wondering about Amelia's strange strong accent. Both girls headed to the barn, Jazz following.