Caught Before The Act
A/N: This is the first in my Zero Day: Restoration Series, hence RS1. This story, from the basic premise and events, right down to the title, was originally written by another user who had Zero Day stories up- about 8 in total. All of them, I believe, went up on this site in December of 2011. In late 2016 every single one of the user's Zero Day stories were deleted without explanation or reply when I attempted to contact them. Late 2016 is, at any rate, when I became aware of the deletions of the stories. I had hoped to have a good template to rewrite this and the others from with saved copies of the stories, but when I switched hard drives the files were not transferred, and the old drive was wiped before I remembered and tried to stop it. Unless they turn up on some flash drive of mine, the original stories are gone forever.
But just because I am not the first to write this story idea, with this title, does not mean this is plagiarism. That would be if I DID have the old Word files, re-uploaded them, and presented them as my own. Using the same title, basic idea, and approximately the same events might not be the most innovative thing out there, but with a lot of superb writing deleted off Zero Day's fandom section on this site, I honestly see trying to replace the deleted work from memory as a dedicated and sincere service from me to the readers of this site. The what-if of had Andre and Cal been caught before the act- and they very well could have been, just as their real-world counterparts, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, could have been- is a fascinating one, and I aim to both recreate a previous user's exploration of this and maybe add some insights of my own. Most of all I want readers to have their story back. Hopefully, I have succeeded.
Calvin Gabriel, blond, 18 years old, was bored out of his fucking mind in his 12th grade English class. He sat slouched in his chair, leaned back, as he tapped the eraser of his pencil on the desk, making a soft, almost inaudible sound. Up in the front of the class, Mister Jennings was going on about yet another thing that did not matter anymore to Calvin, or Cal as he most liked to be called. He didn't give a fucking shit what William Howard Taft, William Jennings Brian, William Tell, whoever the hell it was, had to say about anything.
A school-issue planner, with the words "TIELSON HIGH SCHOOL: HOME OF THE FALCONS" printed on the gloss cover, sat open on Cal's desk. A big X was drawn over the box for April 2, and for April 1, and all the way through March, back into February… every damn day Cal had left to mark off looked like a month. Every week was a year. And every year he had spent in this goddamned excuse for a school felt like a decade…
Yesterday hadn't been half bad. He and Andre had swung by the bank Andre had an account with after school let out, in his light blue 1989 Pontiac Grand Am. They'd made another entry in that ass-kicking masterpiece of a video diary they were doing- they'd made the first entry on June 23, 2000, ten whole months ago. It was hard to believe Cal's agreement to carry out Zero Day with Andre- made just two days before their first video entry, recorded in front of the high school they both hated so deeply- had been made not even a year ago. It felt like a whole other life. And in the end, brief diversions and even the fun of hanging out with Andre couldn't completely disguise the fact that Cal was bored out of his mind. He was done with school. At this point he was only marking time.
Why did this shit have to take so long? Cal knew what the plan was, knew he and Andre had worked it all out, timed everything perfectly. It was all set up according to the plan, and part of following that plan, carrying it out, meant waiting. But even if Cal knew he had to do it, there was no one and nothing that had the power to make him like it. He was keeping the calm exterior going so well that perhaps even Andre didn't know how pissed off Cal truly was. Andre was the one with the reputation for a short fuse; more than one kid at Tielson who thought little of Andre was nonetheless wary of him because of the dark-haired teen's explosive temper.
But with all the hate he had deep down, locked far away from where anyone he didn't want to could see it, Cal often wondered these days. Was it maybe him that was really full of hate, after all?
It sure was close, one way or the other. Behind a calm exterior, Cal stared daggers at the backs of each of his classmates, whether he had ever really spoken to them or not. Cal's hate, steadily eating him up inside and making him feel better and better as it happened, had long ago passed the point where he seriously distinguished people at this school from one another. The school itself was the enemy- the school, and everyone in it. Cal looked forward to killing everyone in this room on Zero Day. Everyone in the school, if he and Andre got their way. Everyone except maybe Rachel Lurie. She was a nice girl, a good friend, and she'd always treated Cal fairly even if she and Andre never did get along. Cal hoped that he would not even see Rachel on May 1st. He was afraid of what Andre would want to do if he found her, and part of Cal's fear, if he was honest with himself, was that he would not have the will to get in Andre's way- to choose her over him- if Andre wanted to shoot her.
He honestly hoped he would not have to deal with any of that. He couldn't talk to Rachel about this, could not warn even her in advance of what was going to happen. She'd tell everyone else. And if he talked to Andre, he'd get mad and start yelling, like he always seemed to do when Rachel came up. Cal resumed drawing on his planner. He really hoped none of this would actually have to be dealt with on Zero Day and that Rachel would just make it out alive on her own.
Beside him, Andre silently hit Cal's arm.
Cal looked over to his right, at his friend, partner-in-crime, and brother-in-arms. Andre was sitting in his chair, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, and looked back at Cal behind the pair of black sunglasses that he frequently insisted on wearing inside. He was also holding out a folded-up piece of paper.
The blond teen took it from him and unfolded it on top of his planner.
What's going on, Jack Daniels? Andre had written in clumsy-looking letters.
Bored, Widowmaker, Cal scrawled, and passed the paper back to Andre.
Andre wrote on the paper again and handed it to Cal a second time.
U R not having second thots R U?
Cal, who had fully sat up by this point, had just set his pen to the piece of torn-out notebook paper, preparing to write "No," when the paper was yanked out of his hand.
"Passing notes in class, Calvin?" Mister Jennings, the bespectacled and bookish but viciously sarcastic teacher said, in a dry and arrogant tone that said he already knew the answer. "Well, since you and your classmate here have better things to pay attention to than my lecture, I'm afraid there's really no other choice but to read this little conversation aloud."
A few people in the class- all of whom had turned to look right at Andre and Cal- chuckled. Mister Jennings pushed his glasses back a little with one hand, and read aloud, "'What's going on, Jack Daniels?' 'Just bored, Widowmaker.' 'You're not having second thoughts, are you?'"
Jennings took a moment to pause and look at the two boys. "So, I am going to guess that Jack Daniels is the alternate name of our friend Calvin Gabriel. And Widowmaker- I can only assume he means you, Andre. And what would we be having second doubts about, boys? Graduation? College? Paying attention in class? Or were you finally thinking about not wearing sunglasses inside, Andre?"
The class loved that one. The kids in front of Andre and Cal laughed, the kids behind them laughed. Everybody laughed their fucking asses off, and Mister Jennings got in one of his smug, self-satisfied grins, but Cal just stayed very still, the back of his neck burning as he looked anywhere but Mister Jennings. He was afraid of what he would do with the pencil he was holding if he looked at the son of a bitch again.
But it was the glance to his right that both calmed Cal down and worried him greatly. Andre's eyes may have been hidden by those sunglasses, but Cal could read Andre well by now, and knew that his friend was close to losing it- much closer than Cal.
There was nothing he could do besides try to catch Andre's eye as the laughter finally subsided, and Mister Jennings headed back up front and tossed the note in his wastebasket and resumed the lecture. Cal knew he had to be careful, though, so he just kept glancing until a slight turning of the dark-haired teen's head told him he'd gotten Andre's attention off Mister Jennings and all the colossal pricks surrounding them in English class. Cal looked where he knew he needed to so he could make eye contact, and gave just the slightest shake of his head.
Not now, he tried to communicate in his earnest, unbroken stare. Not now. Not yet.
Suddenly, in a whole new way, class couldn't end soon enough. Lunch was still a ways off yet; this was only 2nd Period. Cal was going to need to talk to Andre alone, and he was going to have to do it soon. His friend was going to do something understandable but stupid if he let his temper get the better of him, and that looked close to happening.
XX
Sarah Pilar was never going to find that damn art project.
It was just over an hour before lunch, and she had looked all over the ART-2 classroom, where Mr. Silverman had been nice enough to let her search during an open period. Every closet, every drawer- Sarah could have sworn she'd checked them all. It wasn't that she was going to have to take a failing grade for the assignment if she lost it- Mr. Silverman would almost definitely agree to let her make up the work- but rather that this was, in her meek and humble opinion, probably the best painting Sarah Pilar had ever made. She'd been trying to learn every lesson every one of her art teachers had tried to impart to her for years, and of course it was here, with the end of 12th grade so close, that she had "gotten it". And of course, it was right when finally did that the damn painting disappeared and the irreplaceable would have to be replaced.
Whatever painting she made to substitute for this one, if it had to come to that, Sarah just knew it would never be as good. How could it? All the hours she had worked on it, for once getting some respect, however brief, as her classmates noticed the quality of her work and a little bit of word spread about the nerdy girl who was doing the cool painting- Sarah would not be able to just replace those countless hours, all that effort. And the fact that she'd done all this work, pouring the utmost effort, her very heart and soul, into this painting… any replacement effort would be inevitably marred, her efforts distracted, by the knowledge of that nearly-finished painting and the masterpiece it could've been.
It just wouldn't be the same.
Sarah was so distracted with trying to look one more place she hadn't before- and trying to calm herself down enough to more thoroughly check where she'd already looked- that she almost didn't hear the two boys heading for the door of the classroom. One of them- she knew who it was. She recognized his voice almost immediately.
"Listen, dude, I don't get why you're making such a big deal out of this. Seriously. What's the big fucking deal?"
"The big fucking deal, Andre," another boy's voice answered, "is that you're gonna get us dragged down to the principal's office if you do that again."
Sarah's blood all but froze when she heard that voice. That name.
She knew who that was.
When you were a social outcast of one form or another in a public high school, you got to know the other kids who had a similarly low place on the social ladder. You could know some things about them and who they were without ever even talking to them. Sarah, like many introverted kids, spent most of her time watching and listening, even without consciously doing it. Because she had so few friends and kept to herself so much, there were times when people talked as if they didn't even know she was there.
Normally, Sarah felt a kind of sympathy for other kids she knew were like her- who were cast out and looked down on by the more outgoing kids, the ones ranked much higher on the school social ladder.
Normally.
There were some, though, who didn't fit in for a very different and much more frightening reason. It wasn't because they weren't rich, although that was part of it. It wasn't because they weren't athletes, because you didn't have to be in order to be popular around here. It wasn't even because these particular kids were just too "different", because Sarah knew and knew of no end of downtrodden, overlooked students at Tielson who she felt no fear of, whose voices didn't scare her half to death.
No. Andre Kriegman scared the living daylights of Sarah for an entirely different reason.
It would have been simple enough to say he frightened her because he was scary. That was the simplest version of it. But it was so much more than that. Andre Kriegman was always angry. He was angry at the athletes for being stronger and more confident, angry at the rich kids for having more money, angry at Tielson High for not giving him the slice of the pie of high school life he absolutely felt he deserved. Andre Kriegman, who liked wearing sunglasses inside and seemed almost eager to find something to dislike about anyone but his best friend Calvin Gabriel, could seem, on the surface, like another misfit kid who just wasn't understood. Sarah had never really been able to see him that way. Andre swore constantly, was short-tempered, and wore it right on his sleeve that he disliked nearly everyone in his school- anyone and anything that he associated with the school itself, it seemed. He worried Sarah even on the best days, and she was never truly at ease as long as Andre was in the room. She was glad they only shared one class this year.
But now he was headed her way! Him and that blond friend of his! Sarah immediately reached the decision that she did not want to be found here. Not by Andre. Not even when he was accompanied by the gentler, calmer Calvin Gabriel, because Calvin was much more an unknown to her and anyone who got along so well with Andre Kriegman must surely be worth worrying about themselves.
So in the same instant Sarah decided there was no doubt that the two arguing boys were headed for this art classroom, she realized she had very little time to make a call on where to hide. Looking past the tables, off to her right, was a long series of pairs of sliding closet doors lining the wall that was on your right when you entered the classroom. One set of doors, the one she'd most recently searched, stood open. The dark, quiet space of that closet suddenly could not have been more inviting. Sarah Pilar moved quickly and quietly, getting inside and pulling the doors shut not even five seconds before Andre Kriegman and Calvin Gabriel entered the room.
Making sure she could see through the crack between the closet doors in case they, for some reason, decided to open them, Sarah stayed absolutely quiet, absolutely still. Hopefully they would be gone soon and she could go back to trying to find her painting.
XX
Calvin made sure to get Andre into the empty classroom quickly and shut the door behind him before saying anything more himself. Once he had the door shut and had made sure he and Andre stood safely away from the little square-shaped window that would allow unwanted eyes to see them from the hallway. Once that was all done, the blond turned to his best friend. Time to get this over with.
"What? What'd you drag me in here for?" Andre demanded, sounding both irritated and genuinely confused.
"You can't tell Omar Walters to go fuck himself in the middle of class."
"So?" Andre stared back. "He fucking deserved it, I don't deserve a goddamn reprimand for it."
Calvin laughed, momentarily amused. "Did you seriously just say 'reprimand', Andre?"
"Yeah, it's a word fucking smart people use," Andre said. "Not dumb assholes like Walters." He clenched his fists, raised them up to chin level and at the same time raised his eyes to the ceiling. "I wanna take a damn shotgun and blow his damn head off, the fuckin' worthless piece of crap-"
"It's not time, Andre." Cal interrupted his best friend gently but firmly, setting a hand on each of Andre's shoulders. "Not yet," the blond repeated. "You're just gonna fuck it all up if you let your temper-"
As suddenly as Andre's anger had flared up, now it was gone, and the black-haired teen turned sincere and apologetic. "You know I don't wanna do that."
"You want this."
"Yes."
"You need it."
"Yeah, you know I do."
"So keep it cool," Calvin urged to his friend. "It's April. Think for a second. How much more is that?"
Andre sighed, trying to concentrate. "We got, like, what, four weeks left to go?"
"Not even that long."
Andre smiled suddenly, giving Cal a knowing look. "You're fucking ready for this, aren't you?"
Calvin grinned right back. "What do you think?"
"I'll tell you what I think." Andre took a step closer. "I think May 1st can't come soon enough."
"I think you're ready to start shooting people right now."
Andre's grin widened; he seemed overjoyed just thinking about it, something Calvin completely understood.
"Coming in here on Zero Day, to this piece of shit school, and killing everyone we see…" Andre began.
"…is going to be…." Calvin continued.
"So-much-fun." They said those last three words together.
Calvin flung his arms around Andre Kriegman and embraced him like a brother. Never had he known a better friend. Never had he found someone he trusted more, valued more.
"Together we're going to change the world, Andre."
"You're fucking right," Andre agreed emphatically. "Once Zero Day's over we'll be a household name for twenty fucking years."
"Try fifty."
"How about forever?"
"Sounds good to me," Cal said. "But I need you to promise me something."
"Anything," Andre said immediately.
"Don't wear it on your sleeve you fucking hate these people. They'll be getting what's coming to them soon enough, so just act all nice and calm for a couple more weeks. Okay?"
"Yeah, okay," Andre nodded. "You got it."
Calvin smiled, satisfied. He could read Andre well enough by now that he could just look at him, make eye contact and know if Andre was angry or calm, whether a message had sunk in or not. It didn't go one way, though; sometimes Andre needed to read Cal just as accurately, which he could, and sometimes Andre had messages or points that had to be made to the other half of the Army of Two. But in the end, they were equals in every way. Partners. Brothers. Shooting people on Zero Day was going to be a hell of a lot of fun. Cal could hardly wait.
"Okay, Andre," he said, motioning as he headed for the door. "Let's get outta here and go to lunch."
"Sure," Andre agreed. "Works for me."
And inside the closet, shaking like a leaf, Sarah Pilar slowly and carefully lowered herself to the floor.
XX
Principal Richard E. Decauter was having a pretty good day. His prospects of making superintendent of the county's public schools were looking pretty good- a couple more years here to work on completing his PhD, rack up some more athletic trophies to boast about, and he'd be sitting pretty when the current Super ran for the county board of supervisors or for state senate, whichever he chose to go for. And with the end of the school year in sight and no major problems on his hands at this point in the week, Decauter was taking a moment to admire the framed diplomas and awards on his office wall when one of the main office secretaries, Mrs. Alicia Toland, knocked on his door and opened it the moment Decauter called out for whoever it was to come in.
Mrs. Toland was normally very easygoing and composed, and the tension and worry that was plain on her face caused Decauter to immediately sense something was wrong. "Alicia," he said, "what is it? What's going on?"
"Well, it's- there's a student outside, Sarah Pilar. She says she has to talk to you right away. I've tried to get her to tell me or one of the other secretaries what it is, but she doesn't seem to think we'll believe her."
"All right, send her in," Decauter said at once. "Whatever it is, she can tell her story to me."
When Mrs. Toland returned a moment later with a thin, trembling girl with dark brown hair whom Decauter couldn't recall ever having seen or talked to before- all too possible in a school with over 2,000 students- Decauter made sure to stand up, thank her for coming to see him, and encouraged her to share whatever was on her mind. Privately he somewhat wished she'd go away and let him go back to thinking up ways he could make sure he got superintendent before anyone else did, but Tielson High's principal was also astute enough that he knew whatever this girl was so worried about, she wasn't going to just say it and then leave. This would probably take a few minutes.
"Mr. Decauter," the girl- it was Sarah Pillar?- began nervously, obviously trying to keep from crying again. "I need you to believe me. I really, really need you to. Please."
"Well, of course, Sarah," Decauter said assuringly. "Just tell me what it is. Tell me how I can help."
Sarah Piler hesitated again, as if unsure whether to go on. After almost half a minute she did, blurting out, "I think Andre Kriegman and Calvin Gabriel are planning to attack the school!"
Whatever Decauter had been expecting her to say, that wasn't it. He'd been leaning back a little in his overstuffed leather swivel chair from somewhere in Europe, and when Sarah Pillor said that the principal almost fell out of it. He managed to freeze in place instead, then slowly return to sitting upright. It was a few moments before he could say anything.
"Well, Sarah, what makes you so sure? You seem very certain about this."
"I was in Mr. Silverman's art classroom, I was trying to find this painting I'd almost finished- I heard these boys' voices, I knew who they were. I was scared so I hid before they came into the classroom."
"Go on."
"I thought they were maybe going to just have like an argument or something like that, and they sort of did, but this wasn't a regular argument."
"What was so unusual about it?"
"They-they started talking about shooting people! Andre was getting mad and Calvin said it wasn't time yet. Then they said something about Zero Day, and Andre said he wanted to kill Omar Walters, and they talked about how much fun it was gonna be to come here and kill everybody! They said- they said it was on May 1st they were gonna do it! They called it, they called it Zero Day!"
By the time she was finished, Sarah was shaking and trembling like it was zero degrees in the principal's office. She was terribly pale and clearly scared, but most of all seemed to be silently pleading or Decauter to do something with what she'd told him.
Oh, boy. Just when Decauter thought he'd had an easy day on his hands. Andre Kriegman was not a routine problem student, but he'd been involved in enough little 'incidents' that Decauter certainly knew his name.
Andre had gradually developed a reputation for generally being on time but seeming to show up late whenever the mood struck him, for refusing quite bluntly to do things he really did not want to do, for constant swearing, and for violent writings that turned up occasionally as well as a fight once in a while with another student. The name "Andre Kriegman" brought up the word "angry" faster than anything else. As a white male from solid middle-class origins, and especially with who Jonas had been, you would have thought Andre Kriegman would have been one of the last kids you'd really need to worry about. And for his four un-distinguished years here, Andre had at least managed to stay off the radar enough that Decauter didn't have to get into anything awkward and unpleasant by doing anything about him. Up till now he had, that is.
Calvin Gabriel was much less remarkable by comparison. No fights, zero athletic achievement just like Andre, a social outcast, just like Andre. Decent grades, good school attendance. All Decauter really knew was that he was seen all the time in the company of Andre Kriegman and had been since somewhere in 1998.
"Please believe me," Sarah Pilor pleaded, apparently taking Decauter's silence for doubt.
"I do, Sarah," Decauter assured her immediately. He folded his hands together and sighed, looking down at the paperwork on his desk and marveling at the thought that he had once believed it would be the worst thing he had to deal with today. Finally he said, "Well, this is a mess, Sarah. I think you'd better stay here for lunch. Don't worry, that's on me, tell one of the secretaries what you want and it'll be brought up from the cafeteria."
"Are you gonna stop them?" Sarah asked, still scared out of her wits, but becoming cautiously hopeful.
Decauter stood up and thought about it for a moment. It wasn't every day you got so blatant a warning about something like this. There were far easier and less elaborate ways to lie and get attention. And Decauter had been telling himself that he'd never join the ranks of those few unhappy principals who'd had their schools shot up in the mid to late 1990s…
If something like that was shaping up to happen here, especially with someone like Andre Kriegman involved, and Decauter did nothing about it and something happened to this school on May 1st, 2001… If word got out that Decauter had been warned, and done nothing anyway, missing out on making superintendent in a couple years would be the least of his worries.
"Sarah," Decauter said, "thank you for telling me about this. I'm going to get some police over here and we'll have a talk with Andre and Calvin."
"But- they might be dangerous!" Sarah blurted, frightened again.
"That's why I'm going out there myself, and why I'll have some officers with me," Decauter said. "Try not to think too much more about it."
"They went to lunch right after they left the art classroom," Sarah said, staring uncertainly at her hands in her lap.
"All right, Sarah," Decauter said. "Then that's where we'll look first."
XX
Andre was in much better spirits after they got their trays and took their seats at one of the less occupied tables in the vast space of the cafeteria. It smelled like cleaning chemicals, PB&J just starting to go stale, and some kind of meat, not entirely fresh. The fucking cafeteria always smelled like that. He sat to Cal's right, both of them facing the doors. They had gotten to like being able to see who was coming and going from the cafeteria and made this way of sitting a routine a while ago.
One of Andre's favorite things to do during lunch was pick food off of some weak little freshman, and he did that right after they sat down. A couple of freshmen misfits shared the table with them today, and Andre reached over and snatched the corn dog nuggets off of the tray of the closest two.
"Hey!"
"Hey!"
"Hay is for horses, you dumb fucking cunts," Andre shot back, and Cal only partially managed to suppress a smile at the looks of shock the 9th graders had on their faces at Andre's violently profane language. Cal hardly noticed it these days. He was used to it.
"That was my food!" one of the boys objected.
"And now it's mine," Andre said reasonably. "Unless you little virgins wanna fight me about it." Though his sunglasses hid most of his expression, the eagerness in Andre's voice could not be mistaken.
"Just let 'im take your food, guys," Cal said, trying not to laugh. "It's better for your health."
The boys looked at the two seniors like they wanted to argue about it, but ultimately Andre and Cal stared them down. They grumbled amongst themselves but turned away and said nothing else to Andre or Cal. They didn't even leave the table, just sat there and tried to avoid even looking at the two seniors as much as possible.
Seeing he'd won, Andre chuckled and gave Cal half the corn dog nuggets.
"You're so mean, Andre," Cal snickered.
"Yeah, and you're obviously okay with that."
Cal's snicker grew into a laugh, and he just shrugged and nodded as he ate some of the stolen food.
"God, freshmen are so fucking weak," Andre sighed in exasperation. "We oughta force 'em all to do weightlifting the entire year or something. Or make them eat actual food. Christ, the little bastards are skinny."
"And would you have done this, uh, training program, Andre?" Cal asked, bemused.
"Hell the fuck no I wouldn't," Andre said immediately. "Fuck that. I'm good as is."
"But are you?" Cal prodded him, secretly delighting in pushing Andre's buttons. "Are you really?"
"Yeah, just-" Andre looked at Cal, irritated, then laughed. "You gotta stop doing that."
"Doing what?" Cal said innocently.
"You know what, dude!"
"No, I don't."
"Yeah, you really do!"
"Nah."
Andre sighed loudly and went back to his food.
For the next couple of minutes they sat there largely in silence, enjoying both the food they'd bought and what Andre had taken. Cal was about to ask if Andre wanted to skip the last class of the day when his dark-haired friend suddenly went still after looking up in the direction of the cafeteria entrance.
"What?" Cal asked curiously, noticing right away that Andre had become tense. "What's-"
"Look over there."
Cal looked where Andre was, and that's when he saw it. Principal Decauter and a couple of county police officers were standing in the entranceway, clearly looking for someone.
"We don't know they're looking for us," Cal said immediately, lowering his head and voice even so.
"When was the last time the principal showed up in the cafeteria with a bunch of fucking cops?"
Cal didn't like this at all. Andre's animal instincts, the ones he trusted so much, were clearly telling him Decauter and the cops were here to find them. Andre and Cal. And Cal had a nasty feeling his friend was probably right.
"How could they know?" Andre hissed. "We've been so careful, how could anyone have even tried to snitch on us?"
"I don't know," Cal admitted.
"We could try one of the side doors- nah, they'd see us, those doors make too much fucking noise when you open them," Andre said.
"There's the kitchens," Cal suggested, gesturing off to the left. The school actually featured two cafeterias and if you got through the kitchens to the other, you could very possibly dodge somebody if you needed to.
"No. Those goddamned lunch ladies would just ask "What're you doing here?" and stupid shit like that."
"So we gotta go straight out the door where the principal and the cops are standing."
"We gotta try for it. Just play it cool. We better get out of here; let's go."
Andre stood up and shouldered his backpack. Cal did the same. The two boys headed for the far right side of the cafeteria and then for the entrance, hoping to avoid notice. They were so set on bailing on this little scene that they didn't even take their trays.
"Come on," Andre said quietly as they walked. "Just walk casual and we'll get outta here the minute we're past them."
But as they headed for the wide entrance with its propped-open double doors, a turning of heads and movement by the authority figures in their direction showed that Andre and Cal had indeed been noticed. As he moved right in front of them with the cops flanking him, effectively blocking the exit, the principal did his best to put a pleasant smile on his face. It wasn't very good.
"Andre, Calvin," he said, trying to keep his voice light and friendly. "How's it going, boys?"
"Fine," Andre said tensely. "We'd like to get by if that's all right with you."
"Normally I wouldn't even be in your way, Andre," Decauter said. "But there's something we should talk about. You and Calvin need to come up to the office with me."
"Hold on," Andre said, scoffing in disbelief. "What's this even about?"
Decauter hesitated, then replied, "I think you both know."
"Actually we don't, sir," Calvin said, fighting to keep calm himself.
"Yeah, exactly," Andre said, nodding in Cal's direction. He folded his arms, hostility clear in his tone and his posture. "So no, we don't know what this is about. If we did, we wouldn't be asking."
"All right, Mr. Decauter," one of the broad-shouldered county officers said, "I think this has gone far enough."
"Yeah, you better believe it has," Andre snapped, "Now, if it's cool with you guys, I'm gonna go take a shit."
"You can take it in your cell," the second officer informed him. "Mr. Kriegman, Mr. Gabriel, turn around and put your hands behind your backs-"
Andre slapped the officer's hand away as the man reached for him. "Get the fuck offa me," he said hotly. "We're not going anywhere with you."
The cop actually smiled. "Well, now, that wasn't very smart. You know what it is when you touch a law enforcement officer like that? It's called assaulting an officer. So that'll be one more thing for you to explain later."
"I don't gotta explain shit to you," Andre hissed, and tried to shove his way through them. Cal, for his part, went with him, but all that did was get him grabbed, spun around, and slammed onto the empty space of the table closest to the door alongside Andre. Cal was shoved down on the table so hard the air was knocked clear out of him. The blond could hardly breathe.
By now the entire cafeteria was dead silent. Every single student and staff member anywhere in sight was looking nowhere else but at the scene unfolding in the doorway. For the first time in their lives, Andre and Cal were the center of attention at their high school. All eyes were on them at last. That had been intended to happen on May 1st, not like this. Never like this.
Cal passively let them pin him to the table, and managed- thankfully- to put a stoic expression on his face and avoided crying as handcuffs were produced and snapped shut on his wrists. Arrested. He was being arrested. As much violence as he'd looked forward to doing on the first day of May, he'd never been in trouble with the law before in his life. Somehow that made this even worse.
Beside him, Andre still bucked and jerked and fought. They had to pick him up and slam him down on the table another time before he'd hold still for even a second. Andre twisted his head as they forced him down, and in the process his sunglasses were knocked off his face. They clattered to the table. "Ah, fuck!" Andre swore. "Fuck you! Let me go!"
One of the cops started reading the two teenagers their rights, like he was used to hearing the things Andre was saying when he arrested somebody. Maybe he was.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?"
"Yes," Calvin said hastily, before Andre could keep yelling. He felt Andre's anger himself, but knew it would not do them any good now.
"Okay, boys. Let's go, you're coming with us."
They'd been busted. Ratted out. Caught before the act. Cal held his head high as they yanked him and Andre to their feet, and frog-marched them out of the cafeteria, down the hall to the doors to the outside parking lot where Calvin knew the police cars waited. He kept his head up and was proud to see Andre doing it, too. They were almost absolutely finished. They were fucked. Somehow, some way, they'd been found out. Cal just knew it. He and Andre had together lived such clean and unremarkable lives that there was no way this was about anything else. But he wasn't going to let them see the way he was breaking inside. He was going to deny them that at least.
The cops threw him in one car, Andre in the other. The black-haired teen flashed a stricken, helpless look Cal's way when he realized they were going to be broken up, and Cal looked back with an expression that he knew had to look exactly the same. Zero Day was over. It wasn't going to happen now. It… it hadn't been meant to end this way. It was just plain wrong. Cal felt cheated. Even this, this one thing he'd wanted more than anything else in his life, had been taken from him at the last minute.
This couldn't be the end.
A/N: Well, there it is. The completed rewrite of the 1st of 8 deleted Zero Day stories. This one was and is one of my favorites, and I have done my absolute best to replace it about exactly as it was. I've changed some things, of course, but that was inevitable since I was rewriting this entirely from memory. Some stuff is different, but a lot has stayed the same.
Here's what's the same:
-The title of the story is exactly what it originally was: Caught Before The Act.
-The basic premise of the story is unchanged: Andre and Calvin are caught before they can carry out Zero Day.
-The stages the story goes through: (1) Andre and Calvin sitting in class, each bored and impatient in his own way. The note-passing, some of what is said, was in the original story. In particular, Andre asking Calvin if he is having second thoughts, and the note being taken and Andre and Cal getting berated for it by the teacher.
(2) Andre getting angry and Cal taking him into an empty classroom to talk it out and calm him down. They are unknowingly overheard by a girl who is scared of Andre because of his language and temper and hides in a closet before Andre and Calvin see her. Calvin calms him down and they both rejoice in talking about how much fun Zero Day will be before leaving for lunch.
(3) The girl who overhears their whole conversation goes right to the principal's office and tells the principal everything.
(4) The principal and several police officers summoned to the school come to the cafeteria looking for Andre and Cal. The boys rightly guess that's what they're here for and try to get by them heading out the entrance/exit. They're stopped, and some of the dialogue between the principal and Andre is the same or close to what it was originally.
(5) The police go to arrest Calvin and Andre in the cafeteria when it is clear they won't be cooperative. Calvin lets it happen, knowing he can't do anything to resist, but Andre fights. In particular, Andre's sunglasses being knocked off in the scuffle happened in the original story. Lastly, the final line of the story, "This couldn't be the end," is the word-for-word final sentence of the original Caught Before The Act.
-Omar Walters is mentioned in the original story but has no dialogue. I could not remember what presence he has in the story at all, so I made something up.
-Sarah Pilar is also a "canon" Zero Day character. She and Walters both died on May 1, 2001 in the movie, and their names are inscribed on two of the crosses put up on the school lawn that we seen in the brief footage when Andre and Cal's crosses are set on fire. The original story, I believe, used the name of a mentioned female student for the name of the girl who overhears Andre and Cal and turns them in. Since Sarah Pilar is the only one I know of being named in the movie besides Rachel Lurie, I used her as the pivotal secondary character.
-Tielson High School is the real name that was used by the original author of this and 7 other deleted Zero Day stories. I have no idea what the basis for that name is or if it references anything. Odds are it is a random name, picked, essentially, from thin air. In the course of writing any kind of quality fanfiction for this movie, it probably would be necessary- or at the very least, convenient- to come up with a name for the high school Andre and Calvin go to. In the actual movie, the name of their high school, town, city, county, and state are all left unspecified, to give the impression that this could happen anywhere. The original author of this story named the high school, so I have too.
What's different:
-Some dialogue in each scene. Names of some people, the exact date of the setting of the story is most likely different. The principal, if he is named in the original story, isn't named Richard Decauter and the scene of him and Sarah Pilar is written differently.
-The original story ends with Calvin and Andre being pinned to the table and handcuffed in front of a dead silent cafeteria. I end it as they are marched out of the cafeteria, down the hall, and into waiting police cars.
-The lines of "You're so mean," and "obviously okay with that," are taken from the 2012 video game Mass Effect 3. The original line is "You're so mean… and I'm okay with that." It is spoken by the character Garrus Vakarian.
-The way Andre Kriegman bullies some smaller, weaker students and expresses great contempt toward them is based off some things Eric Harris had to say in his journal. Among his violent, rage-filled fantasies and rantings is a section in which Eric expresses the wish to physically brutalize and destroy "some weak little freshman" and "show him who is God". Since Andre is something of a fictionalized equivalent to Eric, I had him speak some of those sentiments from Eric's journal aloud. It all sounds like things Andre Kriegman would say.
-The line "I don't gotta explain shit to you," is borrowed from the 2008 video game Saints Row 2, originally spoken by the character Julius Little.
-Yes, I said the title of the story in a narrative from Calvin's POV late in the story. I don't think that happened in the original story, though.
-When Andre says the line "So what? I don't deserve a reprimand for it," I am referencing the 2001 war drama miniseries Band of Brothers and the conversation between Richard Winters and "Buck" Compton. Andre is not consciously referencing it, of course; he just happens to say similar words. The first Band of Brothers episode aired on September 9, 2001, and thus Andre and Cal in the canon events of Zero Day would have been dead for 4 months by the time it came out.
-Andre says a line very similar to something Eric Harris says in the video he and Dylan Klebold did as a class assignment in December 1998, Hitmen For Hire. Eric and Dylan presented themselves, the starring characters, as two gunmen who can be hired to deal with the tormentors of bullying and harassment victims- permanently. In some of the footage they rant and make threats facing the camera, and Eric says, "I'll take a damn shotgun, and blow your damn head off! Do you understand? You little worthless piece of crap!"
-I made up "Jack Daniels" and "Widowmaker" as nicknames for Calvin and Andre respectively. Dylan Klebold went by "Vodka", spelled with many different variations on what was capitalized, while Eric Harris went by "Rebel", also spelled with different capitalizations. The reason why Dylan went by Vodka was he actually had a fondness for the drink and was able to have it himself occasionally, sometimes sharing it with Eric.