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- Title: Only the Dead: A Thriller
- Author: Jack Carr
- Narrator: Ray Porter
- Length: 15:17:15
- Version: Abridged
- Release Date: 16/05/2023
- Publisher: Simon & Schuster Audio
- Genre: Mystery, Thriller & Horror, Suspense, Political Thriller, Espionage
- ISBN13: 9.78E+12
It’s not every day you stumble across a thriller that feels like it’s been ripped straight from the headlines and stitched together with the raw, unfiltered pulse of a soldier’s heart. “Only the Dead: A Thriller” by Jack Carr, narrated by the inimitable Ray Porter, is one of those rare finds. The story unfolds like a dusty road winding through the badlands – full of twists, shadows, and the kind of tension that keeps you glancing over your shoulder. As I settled into this audiobook experience, it reminded me of a time when I was camped out under the stars in the Atacama Desert, listening to “One Hundred Years of Solitude”. The vast emptiness outside my tent mirrored the surreal stakes of Carr’s world – a place where global conspiracies loom as large as the dunes, and one man’s fight feels both impossibly personal and universally resonant.
Let me paint you a picture: James Reece, a Navy SEAL with a tomahawk in one hand and a sniper rifle in the other, is the kind of protagonist who doesn’t just walk into danger – he stalks it. The plot kicks off with a historical jolt – a freshman congressman gunned down in Rhode Island back in 1980 – and spirals into a present-day nightmare of political division, inflation, and a cabal of elites itching to seize control. It’s a high-stakes chess game, and Reece is the rogue pawn who refuses to stay in his square. Carr, a former SEAL himself, brings an authenticity to the carnage that you can almost taste – the metallic tang of blood, the acrid sting of gunpowder. It’s visceral, emotional, and, at times, eerily prophetic.
For me, this audiobook hit a nerve. Years ago, I stayed with a family in Oaxaca, where their grandmother spun tales each night over cups of smoky mezcal. Her voice had this hypnotic cadence – pauses that drew you in, silences that spoke louder than words. Ray Porter channels that same magic here. His narration isn’t just a reading; it’s a performance that drags you into Reece’s warpath. You can hear the gravel in his throat when Reece is pissed, the quiet menace when he’s plotting his next move. Porter’s pacing is impeccable, letting the suspense build like a storm rolling in over the horizon. The audio quality is crisp, immersive – every gunshot cracks like it’s echoing off the walls of your own skull.
The themes? They’re heavy, layered like the strata of a canyon wall. Power, betrayal, the ghosts of the past clawing their way into the present – it’s all here. Carr doesn’t shy away from the messiness of a world teetering on the edge, and that’s where the book shines. I found myself thinking about hidden histories I’ve uncovered on my travels – like the whispered stories of coups and corruption I heard in a Lisbon bar, or the way a Brazilian fisherman once told me about the men who pull strings from the shadows. “Only the Dead” feels like those confessions given form, a tapestry of intrigue that’s as much about human connection as it is about action.
But it’s not flawless. At times, the plot leans hard into its own complexity – names and factions pile up like driftwood, and if you’re not paying attention, you might lose the thread. It’s a minor quibble, though, because the momentum never falters. And while the conspiracy feels ripped from tomorrow’s news, there’s a risk it’ll date itself as the world shifts. Still, that immediacy is part of its power – it’s a snapshot of our fractured now, weaponized into a hell of a ride.
Porter’s narration elevates it all. His voice is a perfect match for Carr’s prose – gritty, grounded, with just enough warmth to make Reece’s humanity cut through the chaos. I’d argue he’s one of the best in the game; he’s got that rare ability to make you feel like he’s telling “you” the story, one-on-one, over a flickering campfire. The audiobook clocks in at just over 15 hours, and I’ll admit, I stretched it out over a few late nights – partly because I didn’t want it to end, partly because it demanded I savor every brutal, beautiful beat.
Compared to other political thrillers – like, say, Vince Flynn’s “Term Limits” or Brad Thor’s Scot Harvath series – “Only the Dead” stands out for its insider’s edge. Carr’s SEAL background isn’t just a gimmick; it’s the soul of the story. Where Flynn might lean on D.C. polish or Thor on globe-trotting flair, Carr digs into the muck of combat and conspiracy with a soldier’s eye. It’s less polished, more primal – and that’s a strength.
Who’s this for? If you love a thriller that doesn’t pull punches, if you’re drawn to espionage that feels like it could be happening right now, this is your jam. It’s perfect for long drives – imagine cruising through the American Southwest, Porter’s voice filling the cab as the landscape blurs past – or quiet nights when you want to lose yourself in something bigger. Fair warning: it’s not light listening. It’s intense, relentless, and it’ll stick with you long after the final chapter fades.
Reflecting on it now, “Only the Dead” feels like a journey I didn’t know I needed – one that mirrors the roads I’ve traveled and the stories I’ve collected. It’s a reminder of why I love audiobooks: they turn a solitary experience into something shared, intimate. Carr and Porter have crafted something special here – a thriller that’s as much about the fight within as the war without. It’s left me hungry for more of Reece’s story, and maybe a little more wary of the shadows in my own travels.
Until the next tale finds us, safe roads and good listens,
Marcus Rivera
