The beach, she'd said. Let's go to the beach. She'd just wanted a rest. The last few escapades in the TARDIS had been tiring. First, the Doctor had accidentally become the first recipient of a gold medal for moon buggy racing in the 2188 Olympics, then they'd been involved in the disappearance of Agatha Christie in 1926 and afterwards had to save a colony of humanoid ants from the clutches of the Androvax.
Now, Donna Noble was ready to rest, but she couldn't. She and the Doctor had returned to the TARDIS, and as soon as the Doctor had pulled one lever on the console, they had both been flung around the room. The console started exploding spitting sparks and flames everywhere. They were now trying desperately to hold onto something so as not to be injured.
At last, the nightmare stopped and the TARDIS was still. Donna lay sideways on the floor, grateful that she could still feel her entire body. She slowly got to her feet and breathed with relief.
The Doctor was already up, scratching the back of his head and studying the TARDIS controls with extreme confusion.
"Sorry about that," he said. "That lever definitely didn't do that last time I used it."
"Just tell me where we are," Donna said.
"Haven't the foggiest," the Doctor smiled. "It's more fun that way."
He adjusted the necktie beneath his now crumpled brown pinstripe suit, smiled and ran to the door, on the way collecting his long brown coat, unceremoniously dumped over one of the strange tree-like struts dotted throughout the room, and slid it on in one brief "swish".
"Coming?" he said, hand hovering anxiously over the door handle.
Donna sighed. She just wanted a rest. "Coming," she said eventually.
The city was a mess. All around, broken windows, turned over cars and deserted shops. Not a soul was in sight and it seemed as if the whole of existence was covered in a blanket of silence. As the sun rose, illuminating the emptiness, it reflected off large spider webs hanging from street signs. Inside some of the cars were the remains of mangled human bodies, bent and twisted and decaying. Slowly, the small sounds of buzzing insects started as they began to forage in this apocalyptic scene.
It was in the midst of this, that the TARDIS had landed. It's materialisation had frightened a small family of rats, who went scurrying with loud squeaks into the furthest corners of the roads.
The Doctor stepped out, Donna behind him. The two surveyed the deserted streets in silence.
The Doctor's bubbly enthusiasm simmered as he took in the destruction and the silence. He put his hands in his pockets and strutted slowly into the middle of the road.
"Looks like nobody's home," he said, as though a deserted city was everyday for him.
Donna was shocked. "It's Earth, isn't it?" she said.
The Doctor jumped from one foot to other a few times. "Well, it's definitely Earth's gravity," he replied.
"Where are we? And when?"
The Doctor shrugged unhelpfully. "It feels like early twenty-first century, say, maybe, 2014?"
"2014?"
"Roughly. Give or take a few years."
They walked together to the other side of the road to the front of a café. Outside, overturned tables and chairs. The door had been ripped from its hinges. Inside, the same overturned furniture and a floor covered in broken glass.
The Doctor looked at Donna, clearly worried. "This isn't good," he said.
Donna put the outside tables and chairs on their feet. "What happened here?" she gasped. "I don't like this, Doctor."
"Me neither," he replied. He pulled a torch from his coat pocket and cautiously entered the café.
The converse trainers immediately came down on broken glass.
"Careful," he warned Donna. He shone the torch around the room. Every window had been smashed, every light, torn from its fitting and dangling dangerously from the ceiling. The till lay misshapen on the floor, sitting amongst coffee machines and milkshake glasses.
"It's like some sort of post apocalypse," said Donna.
The Doctor gave her a face. "Don't expect to meet to any Hollywood stars here." He pointed the torch towards the back wall. It was covered in large black scrawl, clearly written in a hurry. "GO BACK!" and "STAY AWAY!" and "THE END HAS COME!" written over the top of each other.
The Doctor spotted another door, presumably leading to some sort of back room and went to open it to find it was locked. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and was about to use it when from behind him came a loud crash.
He turned to see that Donna had slipped on glass and collided with a table.
"Are you hurt?" he enquired.
"I think I'm bleeding."
Sure enough, a piece of upturned glass and made a large gash in the side of Donna's leg.
The Doctor grabbed some abandoned napkins and shook the dirt out. "Not quite to OHS standards," he said, pressing them against Donna's leg. She gritted her teeth in pain.
Then, the Doctor suddenly pricked his head up.
"What's wrong?" asked Donna, still gasping.
"Shh. I thought I heard something."
A soft, "plod, plod, plod" could be heard from behind the inner door.
"Quick," whispered the Doctor. "Behind that table."
They shuffled carefully behind the table and waited.
The door opened with an audible creak. From her position, Donna could just make out two feet. They were large, scaly and had only three toes.
She and the Doctor were not alone.