A/N: Welcome to the sequel of The Countdown! I would like to thank my dear friend Logan and his friend Channelle for helping me with this first chapter - was an excellent start. Alright, here ya go! Enjoy and please review! Authors love some feedback.

Chapter One

Jacob Evers was about to make the biggest deal of his entire career. It was well deserved too. He has been working tirelessly for one the most well-known and well-respected investment firms in London. In three years, he has never been late a single day and only had one sick day on his record. He begrudgingly took that. He had contracted food poisoning from a Chinese restaurant near his flat. Needless to say, Mr. Evers made certain that that establishment was no longer open for business.

Tomorrow was the day he was going to make the deal. Millions of dollars were at stake, and he was confident a raise as well, possibly even a promotion. Jacob riffled through his closet, picking out his smartest three-piece suit. He hung it on the door and eyed it scrupulously. Yes, this was the one. After an hour or so of going over every detail of the contract, he made his way to his bedroom. He set the alarm on his mobile for 6:30 A.M. the following morning. The meeting was at 8:00 A.M., and by cab it only took him a half hour, so he would have an excess of time. Sleep soon took him.

A blaring noise entered his dream of sailing on his new yacht. It was not a common noise, something was different. His consciousness slowly began to arise. This isn't his alarm. What is it? Oh! Jacob shot upright in his bed as he scrambled for his phone. His business partner, Elliot, was phoning him.

"Yes, this is Evers," he said in a slightly annoyed, though worried tone. He couldn't think of a possible reason as to why he was calling him so early unless something had gone wrong.

"Where the hell are you?"

"I'm in bed. What is it, Elliot? Has our client backed down?"

"In bed! I wouldn't blame him if he did. It's 8:10, and we're waiting. Did you forget what time the meeting was? For God's sake, Jacob! Of all the days to sleep in."

Panic set in. His eyes darted to the clock just above his TV as he leapt out of bed to start getting dressed as fast as physically possible. 6:10 glared at him in red digits. Now confusion muddled his thoughts. "No, it's not, did the power go out?" he said into the mobile. Elliot was replying something, but Jacob didn't hear him. He brought the phone in front of him so he could see the time. 6:10. It wasn't making sense.

"I don't know what's going on, but I'm heading that way now," he spoke in a rushed tone before he hung up. In seconds he was in his suit. He snatched up his comb and ran for the door. He would try to make himself as presentable as he could in the taxi. He downed the stairs two at a time and jumped the last few. He broke out onto the busy street and desperately scanned for the black cabs with a welcoming yellow light on their roofs. None. He couldn't see a single one when there were usually at least two or three making their rounds. His hand jerked back his sleeve as he looked at his wrist watch. It conspired with the rest of his time-tellers as it told him that he had almost two hours to get to the meeting. Mr. Evers made an exasperated noise as he swiftly made his way back up to his apartment.

He had a bike. His sister had given it to him last Christmas. He didn't ride it much, but enough to know its exact place in his flat. Up the stairs. He made his way down the hallway to the storage closet. His breathing was now labored as he flung the door open. It hung in its usual position. In minutes he was back on the street. He jumped onto it, and then his feet pressed against the pedals. When there was no resistance to meet them, he nearly fell over. Confusion deepened as his already panicking mind tried to work out what happened. His near-crazed stare revealed that his bike was missing its chain. He had no recollection of ever removing it. Now an aggravated yell emanated from him as he tossed the bike into his building.

"This cannot be happening," he growled as his fingers grasped at his hair. His head snapped up as his last resort became apparent. Soon enough he was running through the heart of London in one of his most expensive suits. He knew the quickest way. When he went through his health craze a few months back, he would run to work. The route was still ingrained in his mind. He no longer knew the time. It seemed to be such an enigma now, a trickster playing games with him. He just had to get there. Now, he needed to be there now.

Sweat began to stain the posh fabric of his shirt. He tore at his tie to loosen it as he began heaving for air. He should have never quit that health craze. Right at that zebra crossing. Adrenaline was almost making him sick at the amounts in which it was flooding his system. His veins were pumping battery acid, and his heart felt like it was trying to escape the cage his ribs provided. His mind only knew one thing. Nothing else mattered. The people casting him angry stares as he raced by did not exist. Left up here. Cars and bikes were just obstacles. He could see his building now. A strange happiness overtook him then. He was going to get there. He wasn't going to miss this meeting. Not this meeting.

He never heard the gunshot, never realized that he wasn't going to make it as his body hit the pavement.