What happens when a horror podcaster discovers she's been sleeping on thrillers?
Look, I'll admit it—action thrillers aren't my usual territory. I'm the person who thinks psychological dread trumps car chases every time. But my podcast listeners kept asking about Orphan X, and at 2 AM during one of those restless nights where Shirley (my cat, not Jackson) was judging me from the foot of the bed, I finally gave in.
I should've started this series years ago.
The Government Assassin Premise Should Feel Stale. It Doesn't.
Here's the thing about Evan Smoak—he's essentially Jason Bourne if Bourne had a moral code and a penthouse full of vodka. That description sounds dismissive, but Hurwitz does something clever with the formula. The President has Evan cornered, offering him a deal: kill a dangerous target or die. Simple enough. Except Evan swore off killing anyone who doesn't deserve it when he left the program. So now we've got a trained assassin wrestling with ethics while the most powerful person in the country holds his leash.
The ambush by the Secret Service at the beginning? It's the kind of cold open that makes you forget you're supposed to be falling asleep. I was suddenly very awake, very invested, and Shirley had relocated to the living room because apparently I was breathing too loud.
Scott Brick Is Doing Something Specific Here
I've heard narrators phone it in on series book eight. Brick doesn't. His voice for Evan has this steel-cable quality—precise, controlled, dangerous. But what sold me was how he handles the relationship between Evan and Joey. There's warmth there, a found-family dynamic that Brick leans into without getting saccharine. The age and emotional range he brings to different characters makes you forget it's one person doing all the voices.
Now—and I have to be honest because that's what we do here—Brick can get theatrical. Some listeners find it too much. I get it. There are moments where the drama dials up to eleven, and if you're not already invested, it might feel like overacting. But for me? The narrator commits. That's rare. Horror taught me to appreciate performers who aren't afraid to go big when the material calls for it, and Brick trusts the tension Hurwitz builds. That same commitment to tension is what makes It work so well in audio—when narrators lean into the dread instead of pulling back.
The emotional beats hit harder because of his delivery. I found myself genuinely anxious during certain sequences, which is not something I expected from a thriller about government assassins. Scared? Maybe not quite. But that held-breath tension where you're waiting for something terrible to happen? Absolutely.
Thrillers Aren't About Action—They're About Stakes
Shirley Jackson walked so Hurwitz could... okay, that's not quite right. Different genres, different goals. But the principle holds: good genre fiction respects what makes its genre work. Horror is about dread. Thrillers are about stakes—personal, moral, physical. The Last Orphan delivers on all three.
Evan's dilemma isn't just "will he survive." It's "who is he if he compromises everything he believes to stay alive?" That's the kind of question that elevates a book from competent to compelling. The action sequences are there, sure, and they're well-paced. But the quiet moments between Evan and the people he's chosen as family? Those carry weight.
I listened at regular speed because I wanted to catch every beat of Brick's delivery, though I've seen listeners comfortable at 1.5x. If you're familiar with the series, you might be able to speed through. First-timers, give it room to breathe.
Who Needs This (And Who Should Run)
If you scare easily, this won't scare you—it's not that kind of book. But if you want tension that builds like pressure behind your eyes, if you want a protagonist with actual principles in a genre that often forgets those exist, if you want a narrator who's been voicing this character long enough to own him completely—you need this.
Skip if: theatrical narration makes you cringe, you need to start at book one (and honestly, you probably should), or you're looking for something light. This isn't light. It's 11 hours of a man deciding whether his soul is worth his survival.
The Horror Kid's Thriller Confession
I came in skeptical and left converted. Not to thrillers entirely—horror still owns my heart—but to this series specifically. Brick's performance is the kind that ruins you for other narrators. Hurwitz writes action like he understands that the best fight scenes are the ones where you care who wins.
My podcast listeners are going to love this recommendation, even if it's outside our usual wheelhouse. Sometimes the best horror is watching someone choose between their life and their identity.
Sometimes the monster is the compromise.
