And now, shame. A confession.
LEGASOV
I don't want to do this anymore. I want to stop. (beat)
But I can't. So tomorrow, I will wake up and make more decisions that will kill more people, because there is no alternative. And no, I don't think you have a choice any more than I do. I think, despite the lies, the stupidity--
(the jail) —even this... you are compelled. The problem has been assigned, and you will stop at nothing to find the answer. That is who you are.
And she knows he's right.
KHOMYUK A lunatic, then.
LEGASOV
A scientist.
THE CELL DOOR - opens. The Blond Man stands waiting.
346 INT. BOOKING DESK - MOMENTS LATER 346
Legasov waits while Khomyuk signs papers to receive her personal items. She hands the form across a desk to a prison attendant, who heads into a back room with the form, leaving them alone for a moment.
There's something gnawing at her. Until she can't ignore it any longer... and she turns to Legasov.
KHOMYUK
Did you know they were running a safety test?
Legasov sighs. Yes. He heard. It's madness.
KHOMYUK
There's something else. Akimov says he shut the reactor down, and Toptunov confirms it. They pressed AZ-5.
LEGASOV Apparently not soon enough.
KHOMYUK
No. They say Akimov pressed AZ-5, and then the reactor exploded.
He stiffens. A jolt of fear in his stomach. She doesn't see.
KHOMYUK
If it had been just one of them, I would have written it off as faulty memory or even delusion... but they both agreed. They were adamant.
She turns to him. Legasov seems lost in thought.
KHOMYUK
Comrade?
He snaps out of it. Turns to her.
LEGASOV Do you think it's possible?
KHOMYUK
No. I think it makes no sense. I think it's what I would say if I wanted to cover my own mistakes.
LEGASOV
But?
KHOMYUK I believed them.
A beat, then he moves in close to her. Sotto voce, so no one can overhear.
LEGASOV
Then you should pursue it. We have to pursue every possibility, no matter how unlikely... and no matter what— or who— is to blame.
Understood.
The prison attendant returns with a bin holding Khomyuk's personal effects. As she gathers her items...
KHOMYUK
I'll go back to the hospital now and reinterview Akimov and Toptunov... if they're still awake.
LEGASOV
They're not.
She meets his eyes. Dead? Yes. They're gone. She's surprised by the depth of her own grief, and:
SOUND FADES/MUSIC RISES
347 EXT. FINAL MONTAGE 347
As the music plays, we dissolve from moment to moment, drifting back and forth like a ghost...
OUTSIDE HOSPITAL NO. 6 - Lyudmilla exits the building. Numb. Suitcase in hand. The door closes behind her, but she doesn't look back. There's nothing left to see.
ISOLATION ROOM - Vasily's bed is now empty. An orderly removes the blood-stained sheets.
MOSCOW CITY STREET - Soldiers with CLIPBOARDS walk down the street, and begin heading into apartment buildings.
ACROSS THE STREET - more soldiers, heading into more buildings. Dozens of them. Old women watch. They've seen this before. Men will be taken now. Some won't come back.
HOSPITAL LOADING DOCK - SEVEN GURNEYS, each holding a PLASTIC-WRAPPED BODY. Two men in FULL HAZMAT SUITS lift one of the bodies and place it into a nondescript PLYWOOD COFFIN.
MOSCOW PARKING LOT - a man at the front of a queue gets some papers stamped and handed back to him. He moves off to the left, and the next man steps up. This is PAVEL, 23, thin, pale and frightened. He shivers a bit in the cold drizzle that's begun to fall. He hands his documents to the unseen officer.
STAMP. Papers are handed back, and Pavel is ushered off. We will see him again.
HOSPITAL LOADING DOCK - the Hazmat men roughly hammer a lid onto the plywood coffin, then lift it and put it down into: A LARGER, ENTIRELY METAL COFFIN. Now they lift a heavy METAL LID, and place it on top.
HOSPITAL LOADING DOCK - a Hazmat man is WELDING the metal coffin shut. A reflection of SHOWERING SPARKS in the clear plastic window covering his face.
As the sparks RISE to fill our view, the music FADES... ...and is replaced by the TOLLING OF A BELL.
348 EXT. MITINSKOE CEMETERY - MOSCOW - LATE AFTERNOON 348
A small gathering of mourners stand under a gray sky. Some are crying. Lyudmilla is not. She stares blankly ahead.
In front of the mourners, a line of soldiers.
We move through them to see: a large TRENCH has been dug in the State graveyard, about thirty feet away. There are already SIX METAL COFFINS in the trench.
A TRUCK-MOUNTED CRANE moves into view, carrying the last of the WELDED-SHUT COFFINS. It lowers it down into the trench, where two SOLDIERS wait to hold it in place.
The CRANE TRUCK pulls away, and the soldiers quickly scramble up and out of the trench. Frightened.
Lyudmilla stares straight ahead. Then, in a quiet voice, to herself... almost a whisper...
LYUDMILLA Open wide, O earth, and receive what was formed from you by the hand of God.
And now, a sound you do not hear at funerals. The deep THRUM of a heavy motor.
Lyudmilla watches, shaken, as:
A CEMENT MIXER backs into position at the edge of the trench, and CONCRETE begins pouring out, FILLING THE TRENCH with the METAL COFFINS.
Lyudmilla's eyes fill with tears, and she trembles from the horror of it, but she does not look away.
CLOSE ON: a METAL COFFIN. The concrete rises around it, and we wait and watch over the agonizing seconds...
...until the coffin disappears under the wet gray, and:
FADE TO BLACK
END OF EPISODE THREE
CHERNOBYL
Episode 4 - "The Happiness Of All Mankind"
Written by Craig Mazin
July 24, 2018
Copyright© 2018 Home Box Office, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
NO PORTION OF THIS SCRIPT MAY BE PERFORMED, PUBLISHED, REPRODUCED, EXHIBITED, SOLD OR DISTRIBUTED BY ANY MEANS, OR QUOTED OR PUBLISHED IN ANY MEDIUM, INCLUDING ON ANY WEBSITE, WITHOUT PRIOR WRITTEN CONSENT OF HOME BOX OFFICE, INC. THIS MATERIAL IS THE PROPERTY OF HOME BOX OFFICE, INC. AND IS INTENDED FOR AND RESTRICTED TO USE BY HOME BOX OFFICE, INC. ONLY. DISTRIBUTION OR DISCLOSURE OF THIS MATERIAL TO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONS IS PROHIBITED.
401 OVER BLACK 401
The sound of liquid, intermittently spattering against metal. Rhythmic. FADE IN TO:
402 EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - DAY 402
Two wrinkled, aged hands work the udder of a COW. Milk spurts down into an old METAL PAIL.
MAN'S VOICE (O.S.) It's time to go.
REVEAL: an OLD WOMAN, stocky, babushka, sitting on a small wooden stool. She continues to milk the cow.
Her cloudy eyes gaze straight ahead at her task. The job she has done a thousand times.
The SOLDIER, 27, tall, strong, stubbly face, sweating in his uniform, stands a few feet behind her.
They're in a weed-filled front yard. A dilapidated wooden fence, paint faded and peeling, slumps and weaves around the small property.
In the near background, a tiny home. Logs and concrete. A rippled tin roof. At least as old as its owner.
The soldier wipes his brow. Then waves a cloud of gnats away. Frustrated.
SOLDIER Did you hear me?
She keeps milking.
SOLDIER This is an evacuation. You understand? You have to come with me.
She does not stop milking. But:
OLD WOMAN
Why?
SOLDIER
Why? Because they told me, so now I'm telling you. Everyone in this village. Everyone. It's not safe here. There's radiation in the air. What's wrong with you?