Ireland 1967. The Summer of love. Or was it?
A holiday weekend. Amazing weather. American student Dakota Lacey is hiking around Kerry. When she arrives in a beautiful seaside town bustling with backpackers, every campsite is already crammed tighter than a duck’s eyelid. So she pitches her tent on the glorious beach. .
But there’s a sinister, dark side to the festivities. Lone female hikers are being brutally attacked. The Gardaí dismiss them as random episodes, triggered by the booze, the drugs and the oppressive heat.
Dakota is unaware of this. Until something wakes her in the middle for the night. A torchlight flicking in the darkness? Someone coming along the beach? Her instinct tells her to run.
She races towards some distant lights, and realises her mistake when she hits the water. Now she’s trapped, waist deep in the water. The torchlight is following her footsteps along the sand. She stands still in the pitch darkness and holds her breath.
And when a hand lands on her shoulder her knees give out …