Clever move, that. Not that she's surprised in the slightest Charlie's sharp enough to roll right through their cover. The few still fixated on him are the clearer threat-- all it takes is one lucky hit under that sheet aluminum to do an incalculable amount of damage-- so after kicking a bulkier box to her side (cover in case the lot flanking her catches up some time soon) and choking down a stirred-up whiff of sawdust and burning chemicals, Chloe sets herself to clipping them off.

She gets one. Right in the throat, just beneath his jaw at the side. It's a nasty way to go, but gorier details grab any attention that the heavy growl of the sedan might've missed. It's not the best support she's been able to offer in her life, but given the situation they're in, she figures it's better than nothing.