Midnight in Chernobyl: The Untold Story of the World's Greatest Nuclear Disaster

by Adam Higginbotham

It was past 9:00 p.m. when Korol found his way to the hospital, clutching a towel, toothpaste, and Toptunov’s toothbrush. When he got there, two red Ikarus buses were drawn up at the front steps. One was being loaded with injured firemen and his friends from the night shift on Unit Four. They were all still wearing their hospital pajamas, and many appeared perfectly healthy. Korol climbed aboard and found Toptunov: Leonid looked just as he always did. But his friend could see that the seats and walls of the bus had been covered with sheets of plastic, and when Toptunov spoke, he seemed bewildered and disoriented. Korol asked him what had happened. “I don’t know,” the young operator said. “The rods came halfway, and then stopped.” Korol asked no more questions. He knew that few other people in Pripyat would have any idea that the men were being taken from the city, or where they were going. He began moving through the bus with a pen and paper, scribbling down the names and addresses of his friends’ relatives—so at least he could tell them that their loved ones were being transported to Moscow. As he did so, two more men were brought aboard the bus, on stretchers. One of them looked up. “Hi, Korol!” he said brightly. But Korol had no idea who the stricken specialist was. His face had turned a bright red and was so swollen that he was completely unrecognizable. And when Korol saw the man on the second stretcher, his body seared by 30 percent burns, he realized that, whatever ...