You pick up a conveniently placed chair and prop yourself up, getting a peek inside the vent hanging over you. 

You see a dark figure crouched over; you can’t make out a form, your eyes struggling to adjust to the dim light. You do, however, notice the sound of tape and static as it echoes directions to somewhere. The voice of a monotone drone.  North. North. North. North. East--

It locks eyes with you. You close the hatch.