Dinah hit the lid of the dumpster with a crash and rolled off onto the pavement. She'd landed face down and just couldn't bring herself to move yet. So she left her eyes closed and tried to figure out how much trouble she was in.
Left shoulder out of socket. Multiple ribs broken, but no punctured lung, concussion. Definite concussion. The wetness on her face wasn't just water from the pavement.
Ok, Dinah. Just get up. Out of the alley. Then you'll find help. With an involuntary whimper, she rolled over and pushed herself to a knee with her good arm. Take a moment. Let yourself breathe. Dinah started to push herself to her feet, but her ankle rolled out and she crashed back against the dumpster.
Dinah sat there, forcing herself to breathe evenly until she felt better. It wasn't that bad. It really wasn't. She just had to get herself home. Call the cops and let them clean up the mess upstairs. It was all fine.
She'd call someone! That's what she would do. Dinah fished her phone out of her pocket and let out a pained chuckle. Dead battery.
"Of course. Of fucking course." It was up to her then. With another deep breath, Dinah pushed herself to her feet. She was ready for the weak ankle this time and with the edge of the dumpster for support managed to stay on her feet.
Now to find a very brave cab driver, or civilian. She wouldnt' dare to be picky right now.