CHAPTER THREE

CRACK IN THE SNOW

Ding.

The elevator doors opened to a magnificent lobby. The walls and floor of the room were made entirely out of polished wood, similar to the hall the TARDIS materialised in. The sun shone through the large glass dome above, lighting the room beautifully. The Doctor stepped out and admired the atrium in full. There were desks with computers built into them; and televisions had been installed in areas of the room, showing the latest releases on biographies and news from other capitals across the globe.

As the Doctor scanned the vicinity, his eyes found the Concierge Desk – the place where a visitor would mostly likely go to hire a library book reader. Walking towards it, he glanced around and noticed something very odd. There were no people anywhere. Vashta Nerada wouldn't kill an entire room and leave nothing behind. They were scavengers to the point where they'd stuff their faces before cleaning up after themselves. No, the Doctor could sense there was something strange going on but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Reaching the desk, he stood by waiting for someone – anyone – to suddenly appear behind it. No one did. The Doctor tapped the courtesy bell twice, used for when needing assistance if the desk was unattended. Still, no one arrived. "Jumping the desk, it is then," muttered the Doctor. Placing his hand on the counter, he leapt over and landed perfectly on the other side. On this side of the desk were computer monitors, open diaries and calendars, and pens and papers cluttered across the workbench. The Doctor examined the clutter before him. The desk looked like it was in use, like the concierge attendant was there minutes ago. The Doctor looked around the lobby again. It was like everyone that was in the lobby had vanished completely, without a trace left behind them. It almost looked as if the lobby was left completely abandoned-

Abandoned.

The word rung in the Doctor's head like church bells as he attempted to make sense of what was going on. Why would someone abandon a concierge desk in the middle of the day, he thought. Glancing around the workplace, the Doctor looked for some sort of book reader that would allow a person to read one of the USBs that he and Clara had found upstairs.

A filing cabinet compartment was slightly open, next to the open diaries and calendars on the desk. Opening it further, the Doctor found handbooks littered inside. The Doctor gulped as he read what the handbooks were for.

The booklets contained lockdown procedures and emergency evacuation methods of the Library. One book was left open on the page of actions when dealing with armed and hostile fugitives.

Someone armed and hostile was currently in the Library.

The next drawer down in the filing cabinet was labelled "Electronic Book Readers". The Doctor opened the drawer and found a collection of portable tablets, the Library logo slowly spinning on the screen. The Doctor snatched one out and closed the drawer. As he got up, something caught his eye on one of the computer monitors mounted on the desk. This particular screen featured nine different security camera views, in a three by three layout, showing surveillance around the Lobby area and upper levels. The Doctor had seen something, a flicker of some sort, something that was quick enough to spot in the corner of his eye. The screen suddenly went grainy and switched off completely, the back of the monitor buzzing slightly. The Doctor crouched down below the workbench and found the computer tower humming below. Turning it around slightly, the Doctor noticed the monitor connection had fallen out. Pressing it back into the place, he glanced up at the monitor. It was then that the colour in the Doctor's face drained away, when he saw what had appeared on screen. Not here, thought the Doctor, his eyes as wide as golf balls, not now, not again!

Snow had appeared on the computer screen, similar to a television screen losing channel reception, but the Doctor could see the sharp outline of something he had wished he would never see again. A deep, thick crack appeared within the snow on the computer screen – a crack in the clear form of the Cracks In Time, the result from his exploding TARDIS back on Amy Pond's wedding day. But he rebooted the universe, closed the cracks and saved everyone – so why would it be appearing in the Library on a computer screen? "Clara! Clara, we have to get out of here!" called the Doctor, looking over the desk. Clara was nowhere to be seen. "Clara!" cried the Doctor.

Tucking the book reader inside his jacket, the Doctor leapt back over the Concierge Desk and headed straight for the stairwell. Why did she have to take the stairwell, thought the Doctor. The Doctor was metres away from the doorway and shouted at the top of his voice, "Clara, if you've lived in an apartment block for so long, surely it can't take you that long to reach the bottom floor-"

As soon as the Doctor put his foot over the threshold of the stairwell, an incredible force hit his body. He felt an impenetrable wall blocking his way, blocking his way up the stairs. And then something happened he didn't expect. Within seconds, the Doctor was thrown twenty metres across the lobby, landing with a loud bang on the opposite side of the room. An ear-piercing tone rang in the Doctor's ears, as he lay on the floor unmoving.

What the hell just happened!

The Doctor grunted slightly as he opened his eyes. His vision was completely blurred and the high-pitched whistle ringing in his ear was slowly giving him a headache. Every muscle now ached in pain as he moved slightly to check all his limbs were still attached to his body.

A forcefield? A forcefield across a stairwell door!

The Doctor blinked as a bushy blonde cloud appeared above him. "Get up, sweetie!" a muffled voice called, "hurry up and move!"

The voice was familiar somehow, a voice he'd heard before a long time before. "Sweetie, if I have kick you, not even the laws of marriage will-"

"Quick, sir, get up!" a new voice appeared, muffled like the other one, "hurry, sir, they'll be here any minute!"

The Doctor groaned and he bent his knee upwards. "Sir, please don't make me have to drag you!" the voice continued, pleading somewhere by his side. It was a child's voice, a little boy's voice begging for the Doctor to get up.

"I'm sorry, sir, but they're about to find us!"

Two small hands grabbed the Doctor's ankles and suddenly, his whole body began moving slowly along the floor. The Doctor's eyes were still clouded as the sunbeams changed directions through the glass dome above him. A minute or so pass and the Doctor's came to a halt as the blurred figure of the young boy hurried past the Doctor's side and vanished.

The ringing finally disappeared and the Doctor could hear the young boy's anxious breaths.

"W-Who are you?" muttered the Doctor.

"Shh, sir, please!"

"Where's Clara?" called the Doctor, a little louder than before.

"Shhh! Be quiet, or they'll hear us, sir! You need to be absolutely silent!" the young boy pleaded.

"Hear us? Who'll hear us?" asked the Doctor.

The Doctor's vision finally sharpened as he slowly rolled over to see a young boy in denim jeans and wearing a blue and white long-sleeve shirt. He had dragged the Doctor behind the Concierge Desk and was peering over the top, watching the elevators across the room. He turned to the Doctor and stared him in eyes. The Doctor immediately realised there was something wrong. The boy's eyes were filled with pure terror and fright.

"Who's coming, son?" whispered the Doctor, his sense finally recoving from the forcefield blast.

The young boy uttered two words, "The Librarians."