Jeremiah was feeling it, like a giant clamping its fist around his skull and squeezing. He didn't want to be there anymore, he didn’t want to be anywhere. Jeremiah just wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there, but he had a job to do despite the withdrawals. He tapped his foot and thought for a moment while biting his lip. He swore to himself and shouted “I-I’ll be right back, I have to go get something real quick!” He mustered what energy that wasn’t sapped from the drug and sprinted towards the vehicle. He ducked his head into the cargo area, leaning so only his legs were poking out. Jeremiah started rummaging some of the spare containers, making noise. He quickly popped a pill in between opening and closing a tin for effect. He swallowed hard, his throat dry from the withdrawal, then he winced, ready for the spasms. A slice of him was glad everyone was preoccupied with their own business, if only, he added, if it was less serious business, then perhaps the tinge of guilt he felt about prolonging the rescue only this much might be gone. What thoughts he was having were quickly interrupted by a hoarse gag. He started to shake, and gag, and eventually he went into a full on convulsion. His head felt like it was about to pop. A twitch launched him forward and he banged the back of his head against a metal wall of the cargo hold. He bit his lip, summoning a little red dot around his tooth. The convulsions went on for a few minutes, and when the were done, he shot out of the cargo area, tools in hand. With renewed vigor and a head that was light and fluffy with ecstasy, he practically charged the ventilation control panels. In mere moments he managed to reconfigure the grid, allowing for the intake vents to continue to provide fresh air, while shutting off the one particular vent fans needed for the large alien man to get through. Jeremiah slammed the panel shut, accidentally ripping it from its rusty hinges in a rush of extremely enhanced muscle. He dropped the metal sheet and gave a thumbs up, “all good!”