"Third on the left," says Thomas, and nods towards a little brown house with one boarded-over window and one carefully cleaned and repaired one. "Just- let's get that pig into the house, and then we can cut it up and portion it out while you clean yourself up."

He moves ahead of his wife to unlock the door. A moment later, the lights inside come on.

Not candles or hurricane lamps. Lights. And there's no sound of a generator firing up, either.