Gone! The Doctor -- clutching the scrabbling ugly doll to his chest -- spun around in the middle of Rose's room, peered at the ceiling, ducked and squinted under the bed, threw himself at the window and stared down, but there was no possible way the TARDIS could have got out of there --
And then Rose's voice brought him the news of mannequins outside the only door.
He barreled down the hall and glued his eye to the peephole, beyond which was, indeed, a trio of faceless plastic heads. The door shuddered with every angry knock. "They want the key," he breathed. "They've got the TARDIS and they want the key --"
And then, Rose's hand was in his and the door was flung open, much to the shock of the three autons. The Doctor made a surprised noise and stumbled out after her, dropping the little ugly doll in his wake.
"Rose! Wait! Oh, no no no no no!" He picked up the pace and chanced a look behind them, where all three autons were pointing their plastic hands at the fleeing targets. Their fingers fell down on a hinge. "Get down!" He sheltered her with an arm and ducked over her and kept moving as quickly as possible.
PEW! PEW! PEW!
Shots of light whizzed past their ears and exploded deep craters into the wall beyond them; the Doctor swung Rose around and down the stairs, keeping himself between her and the crossfire, and he was grinning like a lunatic. He laughed at the thrill of being shot at, squeezed her hand and raced down into the courtyard, side by side with the girl who understood more than she knew.
"Let's go!" he agreed, intrigued by Rose's impeccable instincts, and turned their route toward the waterfront. He flinched as another close shot showered them with pieces of brick and cement, and he shielded Rose with his jacket and matched her running pace out of the complex.
Crowds of people were screaming in the distance. The autons were on the move throughout London, and they weren't happy. "We have to find the consciousness and shut it down," he called to her over the din of cars and buses. He weaved his way across the street to the tune of honks and horns. "It'll be underground, somewhere with access to a transmitter. Something big and round and metal." He held little hope of finding it alone. He was even considering a call to UNIT: as much as the idea left a bad taste in his mouth, they couldn't afford to waste time while people were dying.