The Hunting Ground

The velvet curtain of the Caribbean dusk was torn by the roar of the aeroplane jets and Harry Brennan thought his head was going to burst with the noise as the plane sawed through the tops of the trees and exploded into the green carpet of the hillside. The stillness that hung the air was suddenly broken by the screams of the humming birds that Harry had been photographing all day, and all at once Harry knew that there would be trouble and he was in it. Up to his neck.